


Reluctance

by torombolo



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Jeronica, Jeronica endgame, Minor Bughead, Vughead, minor sweetvee, minor varchie - Freeform, not a bughead fic, not a varchie fic, vughead endgame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-07-03 23:07:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 44,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15828789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torombolo/pseuds/torombolo
Summary: Veronica Lodge was at the end of her rope.Her boyfriend was arrested and was reluctant to see her.  Her best friend was dealt a major blow and was reluctant to open up to her.  Her mother was locked in a power struggle with her father and was reluctant to help her. Her old friends were upset with her over her father's actions and were reluctant to talk to her.  Her new friends were reminded daily of her father's plans for their old home and were reluctant to trust her.  The townspeople were unconvinced a teenager could open a business and were reluctant to believe in her.  The codes department, ABC office, and permit divisions were doubtful of her ability to safely run a bar and were reluctant to give licenses and permits to her.  The local banks were scared of retaliation by her crime boss father and were reluctant to provide financial assistance to her.And her best friend's boyfriend, her boyfriend's best friend, the man her father almost had murdered was reluctant to acknowledge his changing feelings towards her.Follows canon up to S2 finale.





	1. Bump in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first fanfic, so feedback is greatly appreciated. I've been lurking on the site for a long time, and have been reading fanfics for years. Hope everyone enjoys this and I am very grateful for any comments you may have!

Veronica groaned. She was hoping tonight would be different, that somehow she would manage to get, if not a full-night’s sleep, then at least an adequate amount. But tonight wasn’t different. Just like last night was not any different, nor the night before, or the night before that, or any night for the past six weeks that she had been living in the small dark and damp room in the basement of Pop’s.

She sat up, turning on the lamp and picking up her phone to check what time it was. “3:17AM” stood out in large font on the harsh glaring light of her phone screen. She looked up at the ceiling, which had been the source of her sudden pull from the fickle embrace of sleep. Chairs were being scooted around, and she could hear the rumble of an excited group of voices. Most likely football players coming in for burgers after their weekly summer practices.

She had thought about asking Pop to try and avoid letting people sit in that section of the diner during the night shift, but to do that mean having to explain that she was living in the basement of the diner. She had done such a good job these past six weeks of sneaking down to the basement every night and settling herself down into the storage closet that she has made into somewhat of a bedroom.

‘At least school’s out for the summer,’ she thought. ‘No reason for me to have to get a good night’s sleep, I suppose.’ The lack of sleep was affecting her appearance. Her usually smooth and fresh skin was starting to get blemishes, dark circles under her eyes contrasting against her olive complexion. She had gained some weight, which she was prone to do in stressful situations. Her hair was frayed and her shoulders slumped.

Still, she fixed herself up every morning. She was going through concealer at twice her normal rate, applying multiple coats to the dark circles under her eyes. She put extra smoothing product in her hair to try and moisturize the brittle strands. She slipped on Spanx under her dresses to try and hide the extra five pounds she had put on since moving into her new dwelling space. 

She still had a part to play, after all. No use in letting people see how her life was crumbling down around her. Not that there were many people to notice. Archie had distanced himself from her on the advice of his mother. Betty was so busy dealing with the fallout from her father’s actions that she didn’t have time for her friend. Cheryl and Jughead were busy trying to find housing and jobs for the Serpents. Kevin had dove head-first into his new relationship with Moose.

And all that was okay. She wasn’t resentful. She had no right to feel like she deserved a pity party, not after how much chaos was caused by her family. Ethel’s father’s attempted suicide, the displacement of an entire population of people, the animosity between the Northside and Southside, FP losing his job, Jughead nearly losing his life.

Jughead. When she thinks of him she flinches. She had been doing everything in her power to avoid seeing him. When FP would spend hours with her in the basement preparing it for its upcoming renovations, Jughead would often come in to check on him. Every time she saw him she was reminded of the pain her family inflicted upon him. It was hard enough getting comfortable around FP, especially when she remembered the despair upon his face in the hospital waiting room. Seeing Jughead brings forth such strong self-loathing it is difficult not to succumb to dry-heaving right in front of him.

Another thud above her head brings Veronica back to her reality. No, this sleeping arrangement was not ideal. But if everyone else could wake up and confront all of their horrors, as so many of her friends had to do, then Veronica could handle a couple months with no sleep. She shifted her body out of bed and put on some joggers and running shoes.

‘No use just sitting here,’ she thought. ‘Might as well put the time to good use. Lord knows I could stand to go running.’ With that sentiment in mind, Veronica pulled her hair up into a high pony, grabbed a sweatshirt, and snuck out of her makeshift home. She inched up the stairs, listening to make sure no one was near the door to the basement. When she determined the coast was clear, she made her way through the basement door into the kitchen of Pop’s, beelining it for the door to the back exit of the diner.

She gingerly grasped the handle and jumped out, afraid that if she didn’t move fast enough someone would see her. She felt the cool night air hit her and gently pulled the door handle towards her, quickly turning around and finding a pair of dark eyes staring at her.

“Sweet Pea!” she gasped, clutching her chest. “You scared me! What are you doing back here?”

Her dark-haired classmate took one last drag of his cigarette, inhaling and dropping the butt to the ground.

“I’m just out on a smoke break. Typical work night for me. But I am curious as to why the Park Avenue Princess is sneaking out the back exit of Pop’s, through the kitchen, in clothes she wouldn’t be caught dead in, jumping around at 3:30 in the middle of the night.”

Sweet Pea had been working at Pop’s since the end of the last school year. Veronica tried to get jobs for as many of the displaced Serpents as she could. It wasn’t a high-paying job, although she did try to pay well over minimum wage, but it was something, and it was one of the only jobs in the area that wasn’t bankrolled by her father. It was the very minimum she could do for people whose lives her family had ruined.

Veronica thought fast. 

“I had realized I left my purse in the basement when I was working earlier in the day. I just came back to grab it.”

Sweet Pea looked at her with a smirk. 

“I don’t see a purse, Princess.”

Veronica could have thrown a thousand curse words at herself for such a stupid mistake. She was slipping. Maybe she did need more sleep after all.

“If you must know, I was planning on going for a run once I brought my purse back to the Pembrooke,” she stated, pointing to her outfit, “hence the clothes I ‘wouldn’t be caught dead in’ as you rudely pointed out. I just decided since I was already out, I might as well go for a jog around Pop’s and then go back in and retrieve my purse. I was coming out of the kitchen because I didn’t want anyone to see me dressed like a… dressed like this.”

She realized she was about to say ‘dressed like a homeless person’ and caught herself just in time. She winced at the thought of homelessness. It was because of her father that the boy standing in front of her, as well as so many others, were homeless themselves, wondering from neighbor to neighbor to sleep on the couch until they had worn out their welcome and moved to the next good samaritan. 

Sweet Pea looked down at her, unconvinced. He walked up to her, his massive frame looming over her small one.

“Better be careful, Princess. You’re awful close to the Southside, and lots of things go bump in the night around these parts. It’d be a shame for something to happen to our generous benefactor.”

Veronica straightened herself up, raising her chin in the air and her hands to her classmate’s chest. With great effort, she shoved the boy out of her way and strode past him. She turned back to give him a sharp glare. 

“You’d do well to remember who signs your paychecks, Sweet Pea. After all, I am such a generous benefactor.”

With that, she started running, leaving the smug Serpent standing next to the door of the diner. She pushed herself faster, feeling cold air in her lungs and her heart rate increasing. It wasn’t enough. She needed more. She needed to feel only her body and ignore her racing mind. Maybe if she could focus enough of her mind’s attention towards her physical state, then she would be able to forget everything. Forget everyone she hurt. Forget this hell-hole that was Riverdale.

She took off into the night, heart pounding, face flushed, tears streaming down her eyes, running faster and faster. She ran for two hours, and when she finally got back to her bed in Pop’s, her head hit the pillow and she was out. Veronica slept until eleven that morning.


	2. Bitter Regrets

Veronica awoke with a start. She heard a loud bang in the main area of the basement.

“Shit!” she muttered when she realized the time. It was 11:07, late in the morning. That means FP had been here for at least three hours. She groaned as she shifted out of bed. Her muscles ached from her spontaneous night run.

The memories of the previous night flooded back into her mind. She would have to be more careful. Her father preached constant vigilance. If he could see her now, she thought darkly, looking around the small dimly lit room. She had almost got caught, and she was sure she hadn’t been convincing enough to Sweet Pea. Her guards were slipping and she had to right them. It would not do for people to discover her current living situation.

She didn’t need people to look at her with pity and concern in their eyes, the former rich girl reduced to the basement of a diner. She didn’t deserve their thoughts and prayers. She hasn’t done enough to repent for the sins of her father, sins in which she was complicit. She got out of bed and looked in the door mirror she bought from a thrift store, which she perused in an attempt to liven up her quarters.

She looked rough. Dark circles under her eyes, her hair a mess, still up in its ponytail from the night before. She knew she needed to pull herself together, but it would prove to be a difficult task with FP on the other side of the door. 

She grabbed a washrag and poured some water from a water bottle onto it, wiping it onto her face. She quickly dabbed some concealer under her eyes, smoothing it out to try and lighten up the dark circles. She pulled her hair out of its current ponytail and brushed it, pulling it back up into a tight bun. Pulling on a pleated skirt to go with her v-neck, she looked into the mirror to survey herself. It would have to do, she thought. It was the best she could manage given her current circumstances.

She listened at the door, trying to determine where exactly FP was within the basement. She stood with the ear against the door for a solid ten minutes when she finally heard him ascending the stairs. As soon as she heard the door to the basement close, she rushed out with her purse and some files in hand to appear as if she had just gotten into the basement.

Moments later, she heard FP open the basement door and descend the stairs. She looked over to the retired Serpent leader. Since getting sober, he had started to look better. Good, even. His skin was brighter, more fire behind his eyes. He had gained more muscle from doing much of the handy work in the basement.

“Veronica!” he said, surprised at her presence. “Did you just get here? You must have managed to sneak right past me.” 

‘You don’t know the half of it’ the teenager thought.

“I just got here, Mr. Jones. I’m sorry I’m late. I had some last-minute errands to run. I should have text you.” she said, in what she hoped was a convincing tone.

It seemed to do the trick. 

“No worries,” FP said. “I’ve just been working on the stage. We’re going to need to pick up some more plywood from the depot later. And how many times do I have to tell you. Call me FP.”

Veronica smiled tightly. She still felt uncomfortable around the older man. She still remembers the man who was reduced to shambles when his son was beaten within an inch of his life in the hospital.

“That’s fine. Just tell me how much you’ll need and I’ll give you the cash.” 

She hated having so much cash in the speakeasy basement, but her parents had frozen her bank accounts, so she had to make do with the leftover money from the White Wyrm purchase in a big stack of cash in a duffle bag in her bedroom. She had tried to open a bank account on her own, but was told that she would need a parental signature for a new account.

“I was actually hoping you could come with me this time. I wanted to check out some light fixtures and need your input.”

Veronica wasn’t pleased. She hated going out in public. She hated all the stares and the spiteful comments she received. Going to the depot should be fine though. It was out in Greendale, where she wasn’t a social pariah. In Riverdale, she was Veronica Lodge, daughter of the ruthless crime lord, Hiram Lodge, and the puppet mayor, Hermione Lodge, who, together, had destroyed numerous lives. Outside of Riverdale, though, she was just a teenage girl with dark hair, inconspicuous and insignificant. A trip to Greendale might be nice. It may be the change of pace she needed to boost her morale.

“Sure, Mr. Jones. Are you ready to go now?” she asked.

He groaned. “It’s FP, Ms. Lodge. And I’m waiting on Jug to come pick us up. He should be here any minute.”

Her breath caught. 

“Jughead is going with us?” she asked.

“I’ll need someone to help me haul all the plywood. Wouldn’t want you damaging your manicure,” he laughed.

She grit her teeth. He didn’t need to remind her that she hadn’t had a manicure in nearly two months. She had resorted to buying drugstore brand polish and having to service her hands herself. But no need to correct him. It’s fine that they all saw her as a high-maintenance spoiled little child. She quickly discovered that everyone would have opinions of her because of her name, the thing she used to be so proud of, and there was no use challenging those notions.

Veronica wasn’t looking forward to seeing Jughead. In the six weeks that he had been working with his father on the speakeasy, she had managed to only have to talk to him twice. Both times were short, and only lasted as long as it took for her to greet him and then scurry away.

It wasn’t that Veronica didn’t like Jughead. Contrary to perceptions, she actually enjoyed his company quite a bit. She loved Archie, but he didn’t always provide for great banter, and his knowledge of film history and literary works was, at best, lacking. Jughead always provided an outlet for higher culture, and she quite enjoyed their debates. She was happy that her best friend had a loving and supportive boyfriend. And although she had Jughead butted heads over her father’s plans for the Southside, she now aligned with the Serpent’s beliefs after seeing her father for what he really is.

But looking at Jughead drove Veronica to a dark place, one that was hard to climb out of. Of all the things her father had done, nearly killing Jughead topped the list. To see her best friend so desolate at the near loss of the love of her life, right after everything that had happened with her father, had broke Veronica. To see Archie in such sorrow at Jughead’s bedside had twisted the knife. And seeing FP, a father mourning for the near loss of his son... Seeing FP just drove the blade in further. 

Jughead was a walking reminder of the baggage Veronica was forced to carry. She felt so lost and pathetic when she was in his presence. He was trying to fight for what he believed in, something she thought was conspiracy-theorist level crazy at first, but she was soon proved wrong. All he wanted to do was bring peace to the land, and she realized it too late, as an IV bag was pumping fluids into him to support his injuries.

But Veronica knew she couldn’t avoid her best friend’s boyfriend and boyfriend’s best friend forever. She was going to have to face him eventually; it might as well be today.

With that thought she heard the door to the basement open.

“Dad, I just got here. I’m gonna grab a burger and then we can go,” Jughead yelled down the stairs.

FP turned to Veronica. 

“I’m starving. Let’s join him and then we can go.”

Veronica couldn’t think of a good excuse not to grab a bite to eat before leaving for Greendale, so she reluctantly followed FP up the stairs.


	3. The Smartest in the Room

Lunch wasn’t nearly as bad as Veronica had been expecting. The Jones men had big appetites, so the majority of the time was spent in silence as her company was busy stuffing their faces with burgers and fries. The times that were spent talking, FP and Jughead led the conversation between themselves. Finally, the plates were empty and the milkshakes were down to their last sips.

“I’m gonna run to the restroom before we go,” FP announced, getting up from his seat in the booth next to Jughead and leaving the two teenagers to talk amongst themselves.

Veronica groaned inwardly, staring out the window towards the train tracks. She was always so good at small talk, at filling conversations and being the high-society social butterfly she was raised as in New York. Now she couldn’t think of a thing to say to save her life. She stole a glance at Jughead, and found him staring at her quizzically.

“Are you okay?” the blue-eyed boy asked.

“Fine,” she said shortly, no malice in her voice but no warmth either.

Jughead looked at her, furrowing his brows as if he was trying to solve a puzzle. He took the last sip of his milkshake and put it down, starting to say something and then pausing. Finally, he spoke again.

“Have I done something to upset you?” he asked suddenly. “I know we aren’t as close as you are to Betty and I am to Archie, but I still thought we were friends.”

Veronica grimaced, but then set her face into a smile. 

“Of course we’re friends, Jughead! I’ve just been so busy with the speakeasy, and sometimes life just gets in the way.. Don’t be silly.”

Jughead stared at her for several breaths before speaking again, the crease in his forehead deepening even further as he searched for answers.

“That’s not it,” he said finally. “You manage to have normal interactions with everyone else. I see you laughing with Fangs and gossiping with Toni all the time. But the minute I come in the room you turns cold. You freeze up, and then you try to hide it with enough pleasantries to shame a politician until you can escape my presence. This feels personal.”

“Jughead, I don’t…”

The teenage boy held a hand up to stop her from finishing. His quizzical stare darkened and anger started to cover his features. He spoke again, this time with more malice in his voice.

“No, Veronica. Is this because of your father? Are you still holding onto some misplaced resentment over my feelings toward him? I know I threw a wrench in his plans, but you all got what you wanted. You own the Southside. There’s no reason to be annoyed by me anymore. Are you still…” but this time it was Veronica who cut him off, standing up suddenly with fire in her eyes.

“Fuck you, Jones.” Veronica seethed as she quickly got out of the booth.

“I owe you no explanations, but hearing those words come out of your mouth make me realize that you wouldn’t listen to anything I have to say regardless. The moment you put that Serpent jacket on you went from some annoyingly passive Walter White to full fledged Heisenberg, but understand this: you don’t know everything and you sure as hell don’t know me.”

With that Veronica pulled herself out of the booth like it was on fire. She yelled over to Pop’s that it was on the house and aggressively stormed through the kitchen doors trying to get to the basement, passing a confused FP on her way out.

“What the hell was that, boy?” FP turned on Jughead.

Jughead sputtered, trying to gather his thoughts that were reeling from the unexpected altercation with Veronica.

“You know as much as I do! I was just trying to understand why she has been avoiding me for the past month.”

FP walked over to the booth and sat down, an exasperated look covering his facial features. The older man knew there was more to the story. He was aware of how Jughead could be. His son’s heart was in the right place, but he sure knew how to put his foot in his mouth in all occasions.

“And you’re telling me that’s all it took to cause that rage I saw?” FP asked pointedly at his son.

Jughead bristled, knowing that telling his father the full story would result in classic FP reality check, something he wasn’t quite prepared for. He wanted to compose himself before answering, but his desire to defend himself outweighed the more rational part of his brain, resulting in quickly spoken word vomit.

“I just asked if she was still miffed over how I felt about Hiram! I’m sure she still holds a grudge against the boy who was willing to thwart all her father’s plans and publicly expose his villianry to the town.”

FP slammed his fist on the counter. The groups of patrons at the two other tables looked over in concern. Realizing he was causing a scene, he lowered his voice. 

“Goddamnit, Jughead. I thought you were supposed to be smart!” FP whispered in an agitated voice.

Jughead sputtered, something he had been doing much of since the beginning of this conversation. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked defensively. “It’s a natural conclusion. Our families are at war, and I wanted to understand if that’s why she’s been so cool towards me all summer!”

FP sighed. He put his head in his hands and collected himself before looking back at his son.

“I know I wasn’t around enough while you were growing up, and I’m not even close to being in the running for ‘World’s Best Father,’ but I’ll be damned if I didn’t think you got your mother’s brains and ability to see what’s standing right in front of your goddamn eyes. I thought my complete lack of awareness was caused by the drinking, but apparently it’s genetic and you must have been blessed with the gene. You make this right with her, boy.”

FP started to get out of the booth while Jughead looked at him with hurt and confusion in his eyes. Although much better than it had been, his relationship with his father was still rocky. It was a complex juxtaposition, still feeling resentment at FP for choosing liquor over his son while also wanting his father’s approval and love in every situation.

“Where are you going?” he asked his father.

“I’ve got to go get that lumber. I guess we’ll go for the light fixtures another day.” FP said as he shrugged on his jacket and picked up the keys to the pickup from where they were sitting on the table in front of Jughead.

“Don’t you need my help?” Jughead asked, hoping spending the day together would smooth the rift that he just caused.

FP shook his head. “I’ll go pick up Fangs or Hogeye to help me out. You can take my bike home,” he said, as he threw the keys to his bike at Jughead. “And, Jug? I meant what I said. You make this right. She’s given up everything to help us, her money, her time, her family. You of all people should know what it’s like to be without family.”

With that, FP turned and walked out the front door, leaving a contemplative and guilty Jughead sitting alone in the booth.

Jughead sat in that booth for another hour. He got a second order of fries and ate them slowly as he thought about what his dad had said. It wasn’t that he thought Veronica was all bad. He knew she had good qualities. She was strong and determined. She didn’t take shit from anyone and worked hard for what she wanted.

But there was her father. Hiram Lodge. The man who ripped Riverdale apart, who owned the town through his mayor wife, who owned the Southside and played its citizens against each other. Hiram was nefarious. Jughead struggled with thinking in absolutes. He was often scolded by those close to him for thinking in black and white, thinking in terms of good and evil, right and wrong. He’d been hit over the head with how wrong that thought process was over the past several months.

His father made poor decisions, but he wasn’t a bad person. The Serpents looked out for each other, but sometimes acted selfishly. His girlfriend had done bad things, but she was compassionate and loving. Cheryl could be a witch straight out of hell, but she fought fiercely and selflessly for the ones she loved.

But with Hiram, Jughead couldn’t bring himself to see in color. Hiram was all bad, the closest thing to pure evil he could imagine. The only redeeming quality he could see was his love for his daughter, but even that was skewed. Everyone was a pawn waiting to be played, even the indomitable Veronica Lodge.

This fact, the thought that Hiram was the epitome of evil, the fact that he believed with all his mind to be so true, was what caused Jughead to keep Veronica at arm’s length. She had deceived them all, even her closest friends, about her father’s plans for the Southside. That made her complicit. That made her one-in-the-same with her father. When he looked into the eyes of Veronica Lodge, he saw the devil incarnate staring back at him. He saw Hiram Lodge.

Jughead pondered these feelings for a moment before mentally slapping himself.

“Ever the hypocrite,” he muttered to himself as he shook his head dejectedly. Who was he to assume children should carry the sins of the father? He knew first hand what it was like to have character flaws assumed to be genetic traits. Did he not struggle with the same perception with which Veronica was now cursed? Once upon a time, when people looked at Jughead, they saw a washed-up, alcoholic minor league criminal. They couldn’t see past his father. And now Jughead was guilty of the same fault.

He looked at the door to the basement remorsefully. How was it that his father, who barely knew Veronica, could see her with so much more clarity than Jughead could, when Jughead was supposed to be her friend, if only by association?

It was his fault. He never gave her a chance. He listened to her plans for the speakeasy that day in Pop’s, listened to her denounce her father in the hospital after the Ghoulie attack, and he instead chose to believe his own assumptions about the teenage girl.

Jughead was used to figuring things out on his own. He constantly assumed he was the smartest in the room. He thought he knew everything, had things all figured out. But now, sitting alone in the booth at Pop’s, he realized he knew nothing.

His dad was right. He fucked this up. He needed to make things right with Veronica. And while he didn’t expect the two to become best friends, he knew he needed to at least apologize to her, the same way he deserved apologies from people who assumed he was nothing more than a drunken gang member’s son.


	4. The Boy She Loved

The sound of the phone ringing was doing nothing to calm Veronica’s nerves. She had no outlet to turn to during times of duress, and now was a time of duress. So, despite the anxiety she was currently feeling at calling her boyfriend, she decided to dial Archie’s number anyway and pressed send.

Part of her was silently praying that Archie wouldn’t pick up. Their relationship had been strained at best since his arrest at her father’s hands. She felt immense guilt towards her boyfriend, knowing that if he had never gotten involved with her, he wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with.

Hiram had destroyed so many lives, including the life of the boy she loved. He changed Archie. Hiram played on Archie’s PTSD from his father’s shooting, causing the once carefree boy to become calloused and belligerent, which, combined with Archie’s reckless and spontaneous nature, became a recipe for disaster.

Her father took this boy and turned him into something foreign. He drove a wedge between father and son at a time that their bond was more necessary than ever. He manipulated Archie to instill chaos in the town, cause riots, sow discord between the Northside and the Southside, and actively campaign against his own father in the race for mayor.

And all of those awful things, those unforgivable sins, paled in comparison to his final act of hatred. He framed Archie for murder. Murder with the possibility of a life sentence. This was not some small, insignificant act. This was an act of evil, the act of a cold, heartless man that has lost all sense of morals. The act of a man who was willing to put a teenager away in prison for the rest of his life simply to remove an obstacle.

And the worst part was, Veronica was complicit. Maybe not completely, as she was not fully privy to her father’s plans, but Veronica played her role. She lured Archie into the family business, albeit cautiously, allowing him to get sucked into the black hole that was the Lodge family business. And she did it for purely selfish reasons. She wanted her relationship with Archie, and she wanted her place at the table with her parents. Thinking she could have both was so Marie Antoinette of her. Such a Veronica thing to do, to believe that she could have her cake and eat it too.

So lost in her thoughts, Veronica was unprepared to hear a voice speak on the other line.

“Hello?”

Veronica’s breath caught. 

“Hello? Veronica?” Archie asked again, unsure if she could hear him.

“Archie? Archie, I miss you so much,” she said clumsily, so unlike herself.

This was a far cry from the typically eloquent and quick-witted speeches Veronica had prepared. She wasn’t used to being at a loss for words. Stuttering out sappy expressions of love and failing to articulate was not something a Lodge was raised to do.

But Veronica did not know what to say. How could she express all this guilt and self-loathing over a simple, thoughtless phone call? She acted on impulse, only knowing that she needed him, craved the simplicity of their talks, longed with nostalgia for a time when their most pressing issue was worrying over Betty’s feelings about their relationship.

There was a pause.

“Ronnie. How have you been?” Archie asked with uncertainty.

All of those things she wanted to say, all of the feelings she had pent up inside of her--living in the basement, the guilt she felt over the whole town warring, Archie being in jail, her fight with Jughead--all of those things were gone, shoved back into the recesses of her mind, out of sight, like her father had shown her when he taught her how to compartmentalize her weaknesses.

“Fine,” she answered shortly, indicating that he should ask her no further questions on the matter. She continued.

“I was just lonely. Can’t blame a girl for missing her boyfriend,” she said airily, putting back on a strong front, flirty and confident, her armor of choice.

“I miss you, too, Ronnie. I’m sorry I’ve been distant. My mother just said…” but he was cut off.

“No need for explanations, Archiekins. Just wanted to call and check up on you. How are you holding up on your end?” she asked flippantly.

Another pause. Archie let out a breath.

“Not well,” he said, halting the rest of his sentence, seemily caught in an internal battle, trying to decide whether to continue with what he had planned to say. Finally, he resumed.

“The trial’s set to start in a month, and my lawyer isn’t very confident in the outcome. I, I guess I incriminated myself when they arrested me. I said that I didn’t kill him, and they’re saying that makes it seem like I at least knew that it happened. That I wasn’t surprised enough. And I don’t think my lawyer believes that I’m fully innocent. She was a recommendation from one of my mom’s coworkers, but now we’re thinking about seeking different counsel. It’s not that she thinks I murdered Cassidy, but she definitely thinks I had something to do with it.”

“Well that’s just silly. Archie, let me help you,” Veronica said, letting her controlled voice slip and a pleading desperation start to seep out.

“I can call up my uncle. He owns a law firm in New York and can have one of his best lawyers on a plane by the end of the night.”

“Veronica… Veronica, you know you can’t do that. You know I don’t blame you. I love you more than anything. But, but it’s just complicated. This was your father’s doing. My whole trial hinges on the jury understand that I’m being framed by your father. I can’t be seen with his daughter, and I for sure can’t have a lawyer on his payroll. Mom said having any connections to Hiram would hurt my credibility.”

He sounded apologetic, and in her heart she knew he was right, but Veronica was still hurt by his words. She quickly snapped back into control.

“Of course, Archie. Just know that if you need anything I’m simply a phone call away.”

Archie sighed, and Veronica could hear the conflict in his voice. She dreaded what he would say next.

“Ronnie, I just think we should hit the pause button on our relationship right now. Being together only muddels things even more than they already are.”

Veronica was floored. 

“Archie, are you breaking up with me?” she asked angrily. Her control had slipped again.

“What? No, Ronnie! I just think we should take a break from each other until after the trial is over. For both of our sakes. You don’t need to hear these things about your father. He’s still your dad. I can’t put you in that position.”

Veronica breathed a sigh of relief. After everything that had happened, there was no way she could handle losing her love. Realizing that the conversation was coming to an end, she spoke again.

“Archie, I love you,” she said.

“I know Ronnie. You too. But for now, we have to step back from each other. Bye, Veronica.”

He didn’t give her the chance to respond. He hung up the phone before she could realize what he was doing. She kept it pressed against her ear, stuck in the same position for another ten minutes.

Finally, she tossed her phone onto her nightstand and slumped down on her bed. Nothing went the way it was supposed to today, but after the past few months, that shouldn’t have surprised her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. I pretty much have this whole fic planned out, and am expecting it to be fairly long. Just want everyone to know that this is a major slow burn. I absolutely love the idea of the Jeronica ship, but given canon material, there's no way it would make sense without significant development between the two characters. I really hope you all stick it out with me until the end. I'm hoping to be done before S3 finale, but am unsure, so we will see. Also, I know my chapters are fairly short, but I'm trying to keep it one scene at a time so I can update more regularly. I can totally lengthen the chapters, but it will delay updates, so let me know your thoughts in the comments. Thanks again for all the reads, and please leave comments with feedback! Thanks guys!


	5. Sweet and Sour

Rain was running down the outside of the window at Pop’s as the two young lovers were talking over milkshakes and burgers. Jughead had finally convinced Betty to come out of her house, assuring her that FP could spend some time with Alice so she wouldn’t be alone in her fragile state.

The two were locked in an intense conversation, the glow of the neon lighting making their features seem softer.

“So explain to me again why you thought it would be a good idea to say that to Veronica?” Betty asked with a skeptical look on her face.

“I don’t know, Betty. I’m just so accustomed to animosity between us. She defended Hiram for so long. And I know he’s her dad and all, but…”

“Jug, look at us. Your dad was an alcoholic and left you basically homeless, and you still attempt a relationship with him. My dad murdered people, and I was so scared of people hurting him when they found out that I waited until it was nearly too late to expose him. Riverdale doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to fathers. You know it isn’t fair to blame Veronica for what her father has done.”

Jughead groaned. He knew what to expect out of this conversation as soon as he called Betty up earlier that evening and asked him to meet her at Pop’s, but that did not change the fact that he was hoping he could get some sort of validation for his feelings.

“I know, Betty,” he whined.

“Are you sure you couldn’t just talk to her for me?” Jughead pleaded, already knowing the answer.

“Juggy, this is a conversation you need to have with Veronica,” she said, grabbing her boyfriend’s hands and giving them a reassuring squeeze.

“I know. I just,” Jughead paused. “I just don’t know what to say. Despite fancying myself some great writer who has a way with words, I’m drawing a blank. Veronica and I have never been close. If it weren’t for you and Archie, I doubt I would have ever said two words to her.”

Betty smiled at him. He missed that smile. Things had been so off lately. He had been so busy with the Serpents, trying to relocate everyone and make sure they had enough provisions, and she was busy with her family, trying to navigate them through the aftermath of the Black Hood revelations. Both had far too much burden to bear for such a young age.

Having all these responsibilities thrust upon them was affecting their relationship, as they rarely had time for each other. When they did have the opportunity to get together, it was short and quick. They had only made love twice in the past two months, both times hurried and unsatisfying, but it was hard for them to justify putting time into their physical needs when everything around them was falling apart.

But tonight was nice. Jughead needed this, and he needed Betty. It was times like this when he was so completely oblivious on how to continue moving forward that she would push him in the right direction. She made no excuses for him, and he loved her for it. He knew going to Betty would be the right thing to do in regards to his Veronica situation. He looked at her smile, awaiting her advice, knowing that he would follow it because she always knew the right thing to do.

“Just be yourself, Jug. Explain to her exactly what you explained to me. When it comes to Veronica Lodge, honesty is the best policy. She’ll be able to handle it. You know what you need to say, you just have to say it.”

Jughead leaned over the booth, grabbing Betty’s face between his hands and kissing her gently on her forehead, and then moving down to her lips.

“Thank you, Betts. I just need a little bit of a Cooper reality check, I suppose.”

She beamed up at him.

“That’s what I’m here for, Jones. Now I really do have to leave. I’m sure my mom is driving your dad crazy by now.”

Betty gathered her things and started to exit the booth. Jughead stopped her, grabbing her hands and pulling her gently to him.

“Betty?” he asked.

“Hmm, Jug?” she responded.

“I love you.”

She grinned, still caught off guard by his open displays of affection. 

“I love you more.”

With that, she pecked him on the lips and walked away, leaving Jughead once again alone in a booth at Pop’s, contemplating his next move.

 

***

 

Just a few feet below where Jughead sat, Veronica was pacing. She had got to Pop’s that evening, ready to work some more in the basement before going to bed. She saw Betty and Jughead sitting in the diner and was tempted to stop and say hello. But the two seemed to be enjoying themselves, and she didn’t want to interrupt their small moment of happiness. Plus, she was still upset with Jughead.

Veronica paused, turning around and surveying her setting. The speakeasy was starting to come along. What was once a dingy room with no definition sitting abandoned as a storage unit was now starting to take shape. She could clearly see the bar now, or at least its bones. The stage, sitting along the opposite end of the room, was nearly done. FP must have worked some overtime.

Veronica smiled, thinking of FP and just how much he had done for her. Their relationship was new to her. It was unusual for someone to just help without expecting anything back in return. She was so used to every move and action being a power play, the moving of a chess piece, advancing one step closer to a checkmate.

But FP helped because he wanted to. He seemed to, for some unknown reason, care about Veronica. He was concerned about her, constantly checking up on her, telling her she needed to take a break and eat, or get more sleep. And he even seemed proud of her. Genuinely proud. Not because she had done something to promote the family business, or because she was able to smooth over waters by manipulating people. No, the pride she felt from him seemed so genuine and so authentic. Perhaps she was just wishing these feelings into existence, craving the unconditional acceptance that she never got from her father, but she really was starting to care about FP. 

Lost in her thoughts, Veronica didn’t hear the door to the basement swing open and footsteps descending the stairs, so when a voice rang out in the silence, she got startled and dropped the paperwork she had in her hand.

“You’re here late.”

She swiveled around, staring into the eyes of Sweet Pea. She scowled at him, moving her hand down to show him the papers now scattered all over the floor.

“Thanks for that. As much as I love being surprised by six foot tall, imposing gang members in dark, poorly lit basements, you could also consider knocking instead. Just a thought.”

Sweet Pea smirked, slowly moving toward Veronica. He stepped up, leaving only inches between the two of them, before dipping his head next to her ear.

“Is the great Veronica Lodge scared of me?” he grinned against her. He pulled back to look at her surprised face before slowly dropping to the ground, kneeling in front of her. His head was parallel to her most sacred of places, and as much as she was trying to ignore it, he was affecting her. She knew she needed to put an end to whatever game Sweet Pea was playing at.

“What are you doing?” she snapped, trying to regain her senses.

Sweet Pea bent down to the ground, gathering the papers she had spilt, grazing her calf with his shoulder as he reached around the back of her legs. Veronica bristled, not expecting the man to get so close to her. She and Sweet Pea had no sort of relationship outside of her hiring him to work at Pop’s. They had been in each other’s presence more often the past six weeks, but she always felt unsettled around him, a sense of discomfort in his unnerving gaze that often seemed to be focused on her.

Sweet Pea looked up at her, and she felt self-conscious. He stared a little too long, furthering her feeling of unease. From his vantage point, he could see up the edge of her skirt, a fact of which she was all too aware. Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet but firm. 

“Just helping clean up this mess I made.”

With those words, he quickly stood up, forcing the papers into her hands, patting her on the head, and turning around, walking around the basement and surveying the progress made.

Veronica stood there, quickly trying to gather her thoughts, feeling both indignant toward the smirking Serpent and also stimulated by his presence. She was confused by the latter feeling, not thinking she was capable of arousal around the hot-headed giant.

She must just be really lonely, not having been physical with Archie since the end of the school year. Yes, that must be it, she thought. It was the only explanation for the fluttering sensation occurring in her lower abdomen at the moment.

It wasn’t that she was attracted to Sweet Pea. She typically went for the jocks or the popular boys, golden athletes with broad shoulders and perfect teeth. Sweet Pea was none of those things, except perhaps the broad shoulders. Physically, he loomed over her. He would have been considered gangly or awkward with his long limbs if not for the air of confidence and superiority with which he carried himself. He wasn’t ugly; far from it, in fact. But he wasn’t traditionally handsome. His dark hair contrasted against his pale skin, much like Jughead, she thought to her chagrin as she had been attempting to keep the judgemental boy off her mind since their fight earlier that day.

She snapped herself out of it and marched up to him, poking a finger in his chest. She had to put on an air of confidence that would rival his own. It was the only way to navigate boys like him.

“For the record, I am not scared of you,” she stated determinedly. “You just caught me off guard.”

Sweet Pea chuckled, gently pushing her arm down to her side.

“You don’t always have to be on, you know,” he stated.

“What do you mean?” she asked, curious as to what would follow.

“I mean, you don’t have to pretend to be some strong, aggressive powerhouse all the time. You don’t need to impress me, or any of us. You aren’t Cheryl Blossom. You could stand to be a little more real every now and then.”

Veronica glared at him. That much confidence could easily lead to cockiness, which it apparently did in Sweet Pea’s face. He barely knew her; who was he to comment on her as a person?

“I am not being fake. And I am not trying to impress the likes of you.” 

Sweet Pea stepped back, looking Veronica up and down, assessing her. She felt like she was a cow up for auction.

“Don’t act like you’re fooling anyone, Princess. We can all see the dark circles under your eyes. When’s the last time you got a full night’s sleep? And your eating habits? Living off a nutritious diet of whatever is left over at Pop’s? I can see the increased fullness of your hips, and,” he glanced down to her chest, “other parts of you.”

“Did you just call me fat?! How dare you!” Veronica seethed. 

She was already feeling self conscious about her outward appearance, and having a near stranger confirm her fears did nothing for her esteem. Sweet Pea threw his hands in the air, claiming innocence.

“Woah,woah. Calm down. I never called you fat. I was just admiring your womanly softness.”

She wanted nothing more than to slap the smirk off of his pretty face. She was over this little game of cat and mouse he decided to cook up.

“Why are you even down here? Get out!” she shouted with an air of authority, pointing toward the steps.

“I just came down here to grab an extra bag of ice for the machine upstairs. I’ll leave. But, Veronica? Take care of yourself. We don’t know what we’d do without you. After all, you’ve done so much for the Serpents. Just let me know if I ever need to return the favor. In a multitude of ways?”

Sweet Pea looked her up and down once more before going over to the ice cooler in the corner, filling up the ice bucket, and taking it up the stairs, not looking back.

Veronica walked into her secret bedroom, closed the door behind her and slumped down to the bed.

There was absolutely no reason the crude, vulgar things that came out of Sweet Pea’s mouth should be turning her on.

“Jesus Christ, I need Archie,” she muttered to herself, trying to get inappropriate thoughts of the Serpent doing crude and vulgar things to her with his aforementioned mouth out of the dark recesses of her mind.

She washed her face and brushed her teeth, shedding her clothes and lying down in her bed before turning out the lamp, trying to ignore the heat and dampness that she could feel coating the inside of her thighs.

She would see her boyfriend tomorrow, she decided, thinking that it was time to break her two month dry spell.


	6. Always On

Veronica looked in the mirror, giving her appearance one final check before leaving to go to Archie’s. She wondered if she had overdressed, but decided her outfit was fine. After her encounter with Sweet Pea, she decided that it was past time for she and Archie to reunite.

She had tried calling her boyfriend, but it went straight to voicemail. Undeterred, she text Betty and had asked her if she could check to see if Archie home. Betty had responded that Fred and Mary’s cars were gone, but Archie was in his bedroom.

‘Even better,’ thought Veronica, as she grabbed her purse and walked out the door, making sure to lock it. She got to the top of the steps when she realized she had left her phone sitting on her nightstand. She ran back down to get it, but in her haste, she left her bedroom keys dangling from the doorknob.

She ran back up the stairs and met her cab, anxious to be reunited with her boyfriend after months of limited contact. The drive to Archie’s was a fast one. Her driver attempted to make small talk, but quickly gave up after realizing that the young woman wasn’t listening. It wasn’t that she was trying to be rude; Veronica was just lost in thought.

Part of her wondered if she was making a mistake. Given her last conversation with the redhead, she thought it might be wise to cancel and just head back to the basement. But the optimistic part, the spoiled rich girl who was used to getting what she wanted, quickly shushed the more rational part of her brain.

It wasn’t as if she was planning on bringing up the trial with Archie. In fact, she had prepared a list of topics from which to stay away in her mind before leaving. She was not going to mention the trial, the murder, Shadow Lake, her father, the Serpents, the mayoral election, Fred, the Southside, SoDale, construction, guns, the sheriff, or the Black Hood for good measure. In fact, she wasn’t planning on doing much talking at all this trip if she could help it.

She just needed him physically. She missed being wanted. She yearned for the throws of passion, physical touch, kissing. She was not used to waiting around. After all, Archie was her first long-term relationship. In the past, if she was not being fulfilled sexually, she would just drop her flavor of the week and move on to the next one.

But she wouldn’t do that with Archie. She loved him. She loved his goodness, his loyalty, his unwavering support. And right now she missed his body, his chiseled abs, the ripples in his biceps that would pop out when he was holding his body up on top of her.

She was brought out of her trance when the driver told her that they had arrived. She got out hurriedly, thanking the driver and slamming the door in her rush. She straightened her hair and smoothed down her skirt as she made her way to the front door. Balling her hand into a fist, she determinedly knocked, excited to see her boyfriend at long last.

Moments later, the door opened and there he was. Archie. Her Archie.

“Veronica?” he asked, scratching his head and looking puzzled. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

“Archiekins!” she yelled, flinging her arms around her boyfriend and pushing them through the threshold, closing the door with a kick of her foot.

“Everything is fine,” she stated, as she stepped back to assess her lover.

“A little birdie just happened to tell me that you were home alone, and I thought you could use some company,” she said, twirling around and kicking off her heels, making her way upstairs to her destination.

Archie stood for a few moments unsure of what to do. Finally, as Veronica was disappearing from his sight, he ran up the stairs to follow her. By the time he caught up to her she was already sitting on his bed, beginning to unbutton her blouse.

“Ronnie, what are you doing?”

“Archie,” she whined, “can’t a girl come and visit her boyfriend after months of self-imposed isolation? Consider it a conjugal visit.”

She had meant to be witty and charming, but immediately realized her mistake. She had hoped Archie wouldn’t notice her tactless prison joke but her hopes were quickly dashed.

“Veronica, you can’t just show up out of nowhere and fling yourself on my bed like the past two months haven’t happened. Why didn’t you call?” Archie asked, frustration in his voice.

“I did! I did try to call, but you never answer!”

“I told you that we had to step back from our relationship. I told you that!”

“Archie, I need you. Everything,” she paused, trying to regain control of her emotions, “everything is falling apart right now. My father cut me off, I’m trying to open the speakeasy, I’m not sleeping…” but Archie quickly cut her off with a wave of his hand. He paused, cradling his head in his hand while seeming to gather his thoughts before looking up at her.

“Ronnie, I understand you think your life is hard right now, and I know it must be difficult, I really do, because Hiram took care of you and now you are having to fend for yourself. And I’m not trying to discredit that or you. But I’m facing life in prison. Life. No future, no career, no college, no anything except my ass behind bars until I keel over and die. And the one thing I needed from you was for you to stay away. Not because I don’t love you, but because it is what has to happen if I have any chance at getting out of this mess. And if you can’t respect that.. Look, I’m not asking for you to give up on me, and I’m not trying to break up on you, but this is something that has to be done and you can’t manage to do it!”

Veronica blinked several times in a row. Whatever she had expected coming over to Archie’s unannounced, it wasn’t this. She started buttoning her top back up, grabbing her purse off the ground and walking towards the door. Before she had the chance to leave, Archie grabbed her wrist, spinning her around.

He pulled her close, resting his forehead against hers.

“Ronnie, I’m sorry. I love you, I do, more than anything. I don’t want us to fight. I want things to go back to how they were. But they can’t, not right now, not with the trial going on. Please understand.”

Veronica sighed, pulling her eyes up to meet his and cupping his cheek. Archie put his hand over hers and intertwined their fingers.

“I’m sorry, Archie. You’re right. I wasn’t thinking. But I’m listening now. If the best thing I can do for you right now is to leave you alone, then I can do that.”

“You know I don’t want this, right?” he asked, pulling his head away from hers and running his thumb over her lips.

She nodded, kissing his finger, trying her hardest to remain composed.

The two kissed, softly at first and then more passionately before Archie broke them apart.

“You should leave. My mom will be back any minute and it won’t be good for either of us if she sees you here.”

Veronica nodded, resigned.

“I love you, Ronnie,” he said, as she started to move towards his bedroom door.

“I love you, too, Archie,” walking out and not looking back out of fear that her boyfriend would see the wetness starting to well in her eyes.

 

*****

 

The drive back from Archie’s was difficult. Veronica tried to be rational, tried to see the bigger picture, but it was difficult. She knew Archie was right, at least partly, but it didn’t help the hurt that was currently plaguing her heart.

She would concede that maybe they shouldn’t see each other. He was right; being seen with Hiram’s daughter could damage the credibility of the case they were trying to make. But that did not explain why Archie couldn’t call her or text her or Skype her, or at least try to keep up some form of communication with his girlfriend.

Veronica felt so torn. Guilt cursed her. Guilt that she had landed Archie in this position in the first place, guilt that she had tried to see him when he had asked her not to, and guilt for continuing to feel sorry for herself when her troubles were so small compared to his.

But that didn’t stop her from feeling alone. She thought she had hit rock-bottom when her father was first shipped off to jail. Her entire world was flipped on its head. Hiram was not the man she thought he was, and it hurt. And she thought she could change him, make him fit into the mold of the father figure she had created in her head.

But she hadn’t. In fact, her attempts at bringing her father towards good had made everything worse. She became complicit in his plans and fucked up royally. And she was trying to make amends; truly, she was. She had employed most of the Serpents through either construction on the speakeasy or working at Pop’s. She paid them well over minimum wage, trying to right the wrongs of her father, the wrongs that she felt just as responsible for.

But her good deeds didn’t help the feeling of self-loathing that had gathered inside of her. She was dying for comfort, begging life to send her something, some outlet for all this pain and frustration that had hardened her heart. She thought going to Archie could be that outlet, that she would be able to open up to him and let him share her pain. That had been a mistake. It wasn’t fair to him, after all the pain she had caused him, to expect him to be responsible for taking some of hers away.

Veronica was drowning in her thoughts, letting them consume her. So when she walked down to the basement, she failed to notice the door to her bedroom ajar and light shining through the crack.

She walked in, kicking off her heels and starting to shimmy out of her skirt. She was down to just her camisole, underwear, and stockings when she heard someone clear their throat.

Veronica’s heart dropped to the bottom of her chest. The last time she had dealt with an intruder, it had ended up with a murder on the bathroom floor of her apartment, with her mom holding the smoking gun. She was freezing, choking up, trying to work past the fear and react. She spun around, grabbing her curling iron from its position on her table and holding it like a weapon, preparing to use it against the unknown intruder.

The unknown intruder who happened to be the reason she went over to Archie’s in the first place, which has landed her down this rabbit hole of misery.

“As much as I love the show you’re putting on, mind telling me what all this is?” Sweet Pea asked, motioning his arms around the room.

Veronica threw the curling iron at his head, but he dodged it easily. She grabbed her silk bathrobe and hurriedly tied it around her waist.

“How many ways do I need to tell you that you aren’t welcome here? Get out!” she said, stomping her foot on the ground for good effort.

“Very intimidating. All five foot two of you in a bathrobe, stomping her foot on the ground like a toddler who isn’t getting her way.”

At that, Veronica huffed and crossed her arms.

“Go ahead, continue making my case for me,” Sweet Pea chuckled. But his face quickly fell back into one of seriousness.

“But you haven’t answered my question. Why, when I came down to look for extra boxes of napkins, did I instead stumble upon some makeshift bunker?”

“I don’t know, Sweet Pea. Because of your inability to keep your nose out of places it doesn’t belong?” Veronica snapped.

“You’re living down here, aren’t you?” he asked.

At her silent glare, the Serpent continued.

“You know, I thought everyone was crazy to trust you. I thought this was just another play by the Lodges to get the town on their side. Keep the Serpents busy and on their payroll. I never thought any of this was real, that it was just some act by the Park Avenue Princess to lull us all in a false sense of security. But it was real, wasn’t it?”

Veronica continued to glare at him, refusing to give into his line of questioning.

“Why are you doing this? I’m genuinely curious now. Following in your father’s footsteps, making power plays, but this time without his backing? Is this just a way to get back in his good graces?”

Veronica had finally had enough. She marched over to the bed, shoving her hand against Sweet Pea’s chest with each sentence she spoke.

“You idiot! You think I would be living in a fucking hole in a wall in a too-small bed with a constant aroma of mildew, hearing obnoxious teenagers stomping their feet above me, lacking any help, no drivers, no credit cards, no shower, taking baths out of my sink for weeks just as a way to fool you assholes into thinking I’m on their side? You think that’s the play here? Live like a fucking pauper just to get all the other ones to trust me, so we can live in some near-homeless utopia, paying out my money, the only money I have left, to have an utterly unnecessary amount of waiters for diner that seats maybe fifty people at max capacity? That’s what you think?”

Sweet Pea looked at her a few moment, blinking to refocus his thoughts..

“So why, then?” he asked.

“Because, you giant oaf, this is my fault! It’s my fault that a whole population even needs serving or construction jobs to survive because my family kicked them out of their homes. It’s my fault Archie is facing life in prison. It’s my fault that my best friend is falling apart because I can’t tear myself away from this neverending nightmare long enough to actually see how she’s doing. It’s my fault your new leader almost died. I almost killed someone, someone important to my best friend and to my boyfriend! Don’t you get it? This is on me. I have to fix this. And if that means living in a basement for a few months, listening to people like you question my motives when you don’t even know me, then so be it.”

Veronica was done ranting, all energy drained out of her. Her chest was heaving and her face was getting red from letting all the pent up frustration and guilt out on her guest.

Sweet Pea looked at her incredulously. 

“You think this is your fault?” he asked, disbelieving of everything he had heard.

“Of course it is, Sweet Pea! I turned a blind eye, hoping that my devil of a father was changed, was a better man, and my hopeful and willful ignorance caused all this. I’m complicit. I’m just as bad as he is.

Sweet Pea chuckled, which only incensed Veronica further.

“I thought you were supposed to be smart. I mean, you always seemed fairly intelligent. I caught you reading in the student lounge on numerous occasions, and you seemed to do well in class. I thought that made someone smart. Damn was I wrong.”

“Excuse me?” she asked heatedly.

“I mean, anyone with half a brain could see that you weren’t responsible for any of this. I don’t even know you and I can see that. I mean, you should have realized that your dad was a snake sooner, but who could blame you for wanting to see the best in him. My dad beat the shit out of me and my mom any time he drank, which was almost every night, but that didn’t stop me from wanting him to love me, wanting him to change,” Sweet Pea said, as he got up and started pacing around the tiny room.

“You don’t understand…” Veronica started to say, before Sweet Pea cut her off.

“No, Princess, it’s you who doesn’t understand. I genuinely thought this was some grand plan of Hiram’s to gain our trust before eradicating the last of us. But it’s not. It’s you. You’re being good, a good person. You’re sacrificing for us.”

“I’m not a good person. I just… I have to make this right.”

“No, Veronica, you are good.”

Sweet Pea swiveled on his feet and walked over to her, his long legs making it a quick two strides. He grabbed her wrist, stroking his thumb over her vein. He looked down at her, focusing on her eyes.

“This changes things. You aren’t just some Northside asshole trying to get rid of us. You are actually trying to help us. That makes you one of us. We’ve got to get you out of here. We have places you can stay. I can get with Jughead and…”

“No!” Veronica yelped, pulling her wrist out of his grasp as if it is was burning her.

“No, you can’t tell anyone, Sweet Pea. Promise me.”

“But…”

“No, I mean it! I’ve kept it a secret this long and I’ll be damned if you are the one who blows this for me. I’m staying here. I’m fine. You cannot tell anyone.”

“Why are you being this way? Just let us help you,” he said, confused at her choice.

“Consider this part of my penance. I have to do this. Please, Sweet Pea, you can’t tell anyone.”

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, not agreeing with her but resigned to follow her wishes.

“Fine, I’ll…” but before he could finish, their eyes were drawn upward to a loud bang in the diner, followed by some yelling.

The two ran up the stairs, Veronica forgetting that she was just in a silk nightrobe, towards the source of the commotion.

In the dining area was a familiar face. The last time she had seen him was at the drug haven when she and Betty were chasing the Sugarman.

At the sound of the doors from the basement swinging open, Malachi looked up. He was alone in the diner, but some of his fellow Ghoulies were waiting in the parking lot, tagging the outside of the building.

The source of the noise, it appeared, was a broken window. Veronica, reeling from her conversation with Archie as well as Sweet Pea finding out her secret, was at a loss. Her brain had already worked overtime tonight, and she struggled to gain composure and come up with a game plan. Another thing that would have disappointed Hiram, but at this point she would just have to add it to her ever-growing list.

Malachi peeled his eyes from Sweet Pea, where he had been sizing up the Serpent and potential threat, and moved them to Veronica. His look immediately changed from one of disdain to a grotesque leer.

“Ah, ah, ah. What do we have here? Are you wearing this just for me?” the Ghoulie leader asked teasingly as he sauntered closer toward Veronica.

Veronica felt naked. She wanted to wrap her arms around herself and cover up, the appraising look of the intruder making her uncomfortable, like she was a prize waiting to be won.

“What are you doing here? You aren’t welcome at Pop’s.” Veronica stated determinedly, pulling her shoulders back in an attempt to show the man that she wasn’t scared of him, even though that was far from the truth.

Malachi paused, his grin spreading across his cheeks like the Cheshire cat. It made his already uncomfortable presence even more unsettling. Malachi got close to her, grasping the strings that were tied around her nightgown. Veronica immediately steeled, not wanting to show any weakness but also not wanting any more of her to be exposed to the unhinged gang leader.

“I heard from a friend that the diner was under new ownership. Just thought I would come and give them a,” he started tugging at the strings, “warm welcome.”

Before he could open her robe, Sweet Pea forced her behind him, shielding her from the gang leader. Veronica had never been more thankful for her tall classmate. It wasn’t that she wanted or even needed protection. She considered the damsel in distress trope overused and stale, and she wasn’t about to fall prey to the patriarchal white-knight coming in a la deus ex machina to save her from the big bad wolf.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t grateful for Sweet Pea in the moment. She was just physically, mentally, and emotionally drained. She had exhausted all of her energy throughout the day, throughout the past two months, for that matter, and she didn’t have the mental capacity to swat off the handsy trespasser.

“You heard her. You aren’t welcome here. It’s best you and your friends leave. My friends are already on the way over.”

He was lying, she knew. She had been with him from the time they heard the window break, and not once did she see him pull out his phone. She silently begged that Malachi wouldn’t call his bluff. But instead, the Ghoulie grinned, excited by the prospect of chaos. As he was about to say something else, the sound of sirens were heard in the background.

Malachi’s face fell, the grin being wiped clean off. He looked disappointed that he would not be able to partake in sewing discord and violence in the diner. He looked behind Sweet Pea, to where he had pushed Veronica to the side behind him.

“I’ll have to take a rain check on our meeting. Farewell, milady,” he said, bowing to Veronica as he exited.

As the Ghoulies left and the cops arrived to talk to Pop Tate, Veronica slumped against the wall, her chest starting to rise and fall with tears waiting to spring at any moment. She couldn’t catch her breath and was starting to hyperventilate.

“Hey. Hey! Veronica! You have to calm yourself down. We need to get out of here. This fight just got bigger than you and your father. We’re going to Cheryl’s.”

Veronica just looked up at him and nodded, trying to get her breathing in check so she wouldn’t end up passed out on the ground.

While she was calming herself down, Sweet Pea grasped her around the waist with one arm to help support her. He had his other hand on his phone, pressed against his ear.

“Jughead? Yeah. I’m with Veronica. The Ghoulies just came by and shook her up pretty bad. I’m taking her to Cheryl’s. Call the others. We need to meet.”

Sweet Pea pulled Veronica with him. She absentmindedly followed onto his bike, taking the helmet from his hands, still numb by the night’s turn of events. But her night was far from over, and it was going to be a long one.


	7. Jacques Clouseau

Jughead was pacing back and forth in the barn on Cheryl’s property. The past several hours had been a blur of listening and arguing and questioning and, finally, of realizing secrets.

The night had started out normal. He had been working at Thornhill with the other Serpents, demolishing the areas of the house that were burnt beyond repair when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He put down the sledgehammer he was using to knock down walls and pulled his phone out of his pocket, wiping the dripping sweat from his forehead with the back of his other hand.

It was Sweet Pea.

Jughead slid his thumb across his screen to answer the phone, pushing it next to his ear and walking out, not able to hear with the sound of the construction in the house in the background.

“Jughead?” the voice on the other end of the line asked. He sounded upset, frazzled, angry.

“Sweet Pea?” Jughead asked, confused at the sound of fear in the other boy’s voice.

“Yeah. I’m with Veronica,” he stated.

Now Jughead was even more confused. He hadn’t been expecting that.

“The Ghoulies just came by and shook her up pretty bad. I’m taking her to Cheryl’s. Call the others. We need to meet.”

Sweet Pea hung up the phone before Jughead had a chance to ask any questions. Where were they, he wondered, and why were they together?

There was no time to dwell on his curiosity, however. If the Ghoulies were active, that meant he needed to get the Serpents together ASAP. The weeks following Jughead’s near death at the hand of the rival gang had been calm and quiet, eerily so. The Ghoulies had dropped off the radar, which made no sense to any of them as they now outnumbered the Serpents by a large margin. It made all of them on edge, knowing the enemy was out there but wasn’t making any moves.

But now that they were back, it was time to take action. The Serpents had been anticipating this for a while now, waiting for the Ghoulies to strike. He never would have imagined that the first person they would strike against would be Veronica Lodge, daughter of the person cutting them their checks.

Jughead called the others and told them to meet in the barn on Cheryl’s property immediately. Most of them were already there, as they had been working on fixing up both the barn and Thornhill to accommodate those displaced from Sunnyside Trailer Park. Others were already living in Thistlehouse with Cheryl, Toni, and Nana Rose, although that number was fairly small as the guest house was not able to home as many people as they had hoped.

Jughead stood near the gates, waiting anxiously for Sweet Pea’s arrival. Finally, he saw the lights of his friend’s motorcycle approaching, and Jughead made his way to the barn to wait for them to enter.

Most of the other Serpents had already arrived, and a few stragglers were filling in, standing near the edges. Finally, Sweet Pea arrived, holding a visibly shaken Veronica by the waist and bringing her to one of the couches that had been set up in the makeshift meeting area.

Veronica sat down on the couch, her hands shaking and eyes looking blank.

“Sweet Pea, what happened?!” Jughead yelped, rushing up to Veronica and kneeling by her side.

“Did they hurt her?” he asked, looking up at Sweet Pea from his position on the floor, then looking back to Veronica and turning her hands over in his, inspecting her for damage.

“She’s fine. Just shaken up. The Ghoulies came to Pop’s. The busted out a window and tagged the outside up, but they left before too much damage was done. No one got hurt,” Sweet Pea explained.

From the back of the room, Cheryl shoved her way to the front, pushing Jughead and Sweet Pea aside and grasping Veronica’s hands in her own.

“She’s shivering, you imbeciles. She’s practically naked! Come on, Veronica,” she said gently to the girl in front of her, “let’s take you inside and get you dressed. You’re staying with us tonight.”

Cheryl looked back at the two boys with disdain, rolling her eyes at them before exiting the barn with Veronica, her arm draped across the girl’s shoulder in comfort.

It was only then that Jughead realized what Veronica was wearing. She was dressed in nothing but a robe and her stockings, the tops of the thigh-highs peeking out near the top of her legs, her short satin robe barely covering them. He turned back to Sweet Pea, eyes swimming with unanswered questions and the beginnings of rage.

“So help me… If they… If they touched her, I swear to God,” Jughead started.

“Calm down! I said nothing happened!” Sweet Pea stated loudly, trying to pacify his perturbed leader.

“Then why the hell is she dressed like that?” Jughead yelled, motioning towards the door from which Veronica had just left.

Sweet Pea hadn’t thought of that. Had he been smart, he would have taken her back down to the basement for her to get dressed. But Sweet Pea wasn’t known for his brains. He was reckless and impulsive, which worked for him most of the time but now landed him in a pickle. He thought about telling Jughead the truth, telling him everything he had learned that night, but he had made a promise to Veronica, or at least agreed to one.

“I don’t have an answer for that,” he stated.

“You don’t, or you won’t tell me?” Jughead asked. “What were you two doing together anyway?”

“We weren’t together, not really. I had just started my shift at the diner. I was about to change downstairs but realized I needed to grab some supplies from the basement, so I figured I would head down there first and change as I picked up some boxes of napkins. Veronica came down right after me, and then we heard a crash and some yelling. We both ran upstairs and that’s when it we saw them. It was Malachi, man. They sent the big dogs. I don’t know what they’re planning, but they sent their leader to do it.”

Jughead sat down on the couch, absorbing all this information. He still had questions, but he would talk to Sweet Pea privately about them later. Sweet Pea continued.

“I guess Malachi busted up a window. Two of his goons were outside with some cans of spray paint. He saw Veronica and was a fucking creep, leering at her like a cat who just caught the canary. It just shook her up, but Pop had called the cops and Malachi ran off when he heard the sirens. But it isn’t finished. He told her he’d have to take a rain check.”

Jughead sighed, resting his head in his hands, hunched over with his elbows on his knees. He was just so confused. Why would the Ghoulies want anything to do with Veronica? She had no beef with them as far as he knew. He looked back up at Sweet Pea.

“Jones, there’s something else. I never had the chance to change into my diner uniform. I still had my skins on. They saw the Serpent jacket, and they saw me next to her. I think they think she’s with us now. She isn’t safe.”

Jughead groaned. He had so much to deal with already. They were still handling the fallout from the Sunnyside fire, trying to house all the displaced Serpents. Things with Betty, although better, were still rocky. His best friend was on trial for murder. He constantly worried about his father’s sobriety. He didn’t have time to worry about Veronica, but now he had no choice.

He and Veronica weren’t friends, not really, but she was important to the people who were important to him, and that made her part of his life. He stood up from where he was sitting on the couch to address the Serpents.

“I know we all have a lot going on right now, but we have a more immediate threat right now. The Ghoulies are back. And right now they’re going after Veronica Lodge. And I know she isn’t one of us, but she’s been helping a lot of us out. Right now, it’s Veronica, but tomorrow? Tomorrow it could be us. I’m instating safety mode. Be back in your homes by sundown unless you’re working. If you have to go out, you take someone with you, and you let the rest of us know where you are. We’ll come up with a plan to deal with the Ghoulies tomorrow; we’re all tired tonight and we need rest if we’re gonna tackle this head-on. But until we can put an end to the Ghoulie problem once and for all, we stick together. In unity, there is strength!”

“In unity, there is strength!” the Serpents yelled back at him in unison, determination on their faces. They had all lost so much, and each and every one of them were prepared to stand their ground and fight for what they had left. Each other.

 

*****

 

Jughead motioned for Sweet Pea to hang behind as all of the remaining Serpents flooded out. He walked over to the makeshift bar, pouring both him and his friend a large helping of the cheap whisky Toni managed to keep in stock.

They walked over to a card table that was shoved in the corner, both sitting down on the rusted folding chairs and remaining silent, sipping their drinks and letting the events of the night absorb with each swallow of the harsh alcohol.

Finally, Jughead spoke.

“There’s something you aren’t telling me,” he stated. It was not a question.

“What, Jughead? What do you think I’m hiding from you?”

“Something isn’t adding up. Why was Veronica dressed like that if she came down to the basement while you were there? Where did she come from dressed like that?”

“Why does it matter, man? All that we should be concerned with right now is fixing this fucking mess,” Sweet Pea said, trying to convince his friend to drop the matter.

“I know Veronica Lodge, or at least I know her well enough to realize that she would never be caught dead out in public in anything less than a $3,000 designer outfit, walking around with her heels clicking against the floor. But instead, she shows up in a robe, no designer outfit, no heels, completely barefoot. Why is that?”

Sweet Pea sighed. He knew his friend, and he knew he wouldn’t stop until he had all the answers he desired. It was one of Jughead’s most admirable traits, but also one of his most annoying.

Jughead wasn’t deterred with his friend’s silence. It wasn’t like Sweet Pea to keep secrets. And in times of trouble, Sweet Pea was never able to remain this composed. Whatever the truth was, it was something both Veronica and Sweet Pea wanted to keep quiet. And then it clicked.

“You’re sleeping with her, aren’t you? That’s why she was dressed like that. That’s why you guys were together. That’s what you aren’t telling me!”

Sweet Pea looked up, horrified. Before he had the chance to defend himself, Jughead continued.

“She’s dating my best friend! What the fuck, Sweet Pea? I mean, I know you aren’t fond of Archie but the guy’s facing life in prison, and you and Veronica are going behind his back to bone?”

Before Jughead had the chance to say anything else, Sweet Pea slammed his fist on the table.

“Damn, Jughead. You won’t even let me get a word in! We aren’t sleeping together. Not that I’m a man of superior morals; I could give two shits about the redhead. But if you think she would come near me with anything less than a ten foot barrier, you’re delusional.”

Jughead paused. His friend was right. He didn’t know Veronica that well, but he did know her well enough to realize that she wouldn’t do that to Archie. But this revelation that they weren’t having an affair just caused even more confusion.

“Then why? I don’t understand.”

“I told you; I can’t tell you.”

At that, Jughead let out a frustrated growl.

“What can’t you tell, Sweet Pea? How do you know this critical secret of Veronica’s? Why is she opening up to you? What is it that you guys are hiding?”

Sweet Pea sighed, resigned.

“It’s not my secret to tell. This is Veronica’s burden to share, and I’m not going to betray her trust to sate your curiosity. If you want to know, you’ll have to ask her yourself.”

At that, Sweet Pea left towards Thistlehouse, going to check on Veronica before leaving for the evening. Jughead sat at the card table, downing the rest of his drink. He was so curious as to what the two were hiding, and he was upset with Sweet Pea for not telling him everything. But there was a part of him, a part he didn’t seem to understand, that he was reluctant to acknowledge, that was jealous that Sweet Pea was the Serpent Veronica chose to open up to. 

It wasn’t that he felt that he was owed an explanation by Veronica, but if she was going to confide in a Serpent from the Southside over confiding in her boyfriend or best friend, shouldn’t it at least have been him? She barely knew Sweet Pea, but she had spent plenty of time with Jughead over a milkshake and fries on a double date with their significant others. But he would dwell on this uncharacteristic notion of envy. Regardless of his feelings, Jughead was determined to get answers. And to do that, he would have to go straight to the source.

 

*****

 

Veronica was sitting by the fireplace in the guest bedroom, letting her freshly-washed hair dry in the heat of the flames. She was bundled up under a blanket, Cheryl’s satin, floor-length chemise that the redhead had let her borrow doing little to curb the chill in her bones. She was lost in thought when she heard a knock at the door.

“Come in,” she said, not bothering to ask who it was or turn around to look when the door opened.

She heard heavy footsteps coming up behind her. A tall figure sat down next to her on the plush sherpa rug. She looked over to Sweet Pea, giving him a small smile before letting her face return to its blank state.

“How are you doing?” he asked, genuine concern flooding his voice.

She smiled softly again, this time keeping it in place.

“I’m fine. I think I was just overwhelmed. So much has happened and that was just the final straw that caused a minor breakdown. Nothing to worry about, though.”

Sweet Pea looked at her, trying to see the truth in her eyes behind the steel fortress she put up to keep others out.

“It’s okay to be scared, you know. You don’t have to be brave for everyone all of the time.”

Veronica chuckled, looking up at him.

“Says the guy who’s never shown an ounce of outward vulnerability or fear in his life.”

“Not fair, Princess. You’ve known me for like nine months. And not in any great capacity. We can still change that, you know,” he flirted, trying to lighten the mood, nudging her with his elbow while winking.

She laughed at him.

“God, you’re such a pig. I just went through a traumatic, disastrous experience and here you are trying to get into my pants,” she said, sarcastically referencing the Ghoulie intrusion.

“There you go again. You just belittled Malachi’s attack like it was nothing. You don’t have to do that.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic. It wasn’t an attack. So there’s some broken glass and a little spray paint. We’ll have it fixed by tomorrow morning.”

Veronica rolled her eyes at the tall teenager, and he immediately rolled his back. As the two talked, the didn’t hear the footsteps come up the stairs and stop right in front of the door. They continued their conversation as Jughead stalled, realizing that he should either leave or make his presence known before making the split decision to listen in on their discussion. He tried to justify it in his mind, thinking that if they had wanted to keep the conversation private, they would have had the door closed and wouldn’t be speaking in normal voices.

“We need to tell Jughead, you know. He knows something’s up and he’s not going to stop until he finds out the truth.

“No, Sweet Pea! I told you we aren’t telling him! Honestly, how much trouble can our aspiring true-crime sleuthing Truman Capote cause? He hasn’t found out yet, and he’s been hanging around the diner for months.”

Sweet Pea turned to Veronica, placing one hand on her shoulder and the other hand under her chin, lifting it up so her eyes would meet his.

“Veronica, this changes things. You could be in danger. The Ghoulies know about you now, and they saw you with me. They think you’re with us. That puts a target on your back. You can’t keep living in the basement at Pop’s. You saw how easily they got into the diner. What if I wasn’t there? What if Malachi had made his way to the basement and cornered you in your room. There’s only one way in and out of there for now; you’d have no way to escape! You need to find another place to live. No more self-sacrificing. You’re acting like your safety is a burden on others. Any of us could take you in. Please just let us.”

“I’ll be fine!” she said, trying to pull away from him, but to no avail as he pulled her closer to him.

From outside of the door, Jughead gasped, then quickly shut himself up. That was the secret? Veronica was living at Pop’s? It just led to more questions. Why wouldn’t she be at the Pembrooke? Surely Hiram and Hermione would never stand for their pedigreed daughter to be living in a dingy, damp room under the bottom of a tiny diner. He turned his attention back to his friends.

“Please, Princess…” Sweet Pea started, but he was stopped by her hand clamped over his mouth.

“Don’t,” she said, pressing her finger from her other hand into his chest, “call me that. I am not your princess, and don’t act like you care about what happens to me when you couldn’t stand me even two weeks ago. I don’t understand this… thing,” she said waving her fingers between them, “you have going on with me, but you need to drop it. Let’s just go back to the rich bitch from the Northside and the Serpent scum from the Southside, because I don’t need you or anyone trying to fix the mess that I have created for myself.”

“What if I don’t want that? What if I saw something in you, realized that you aren’t just the ‘rich Northside bitch’ as you so disparagingly called yourself? When are you going to stop fighting the world and realize that there are some people that are on your side, people that genuinely care about you?”

Veronica looked at him, steeling her eyes and fortifying her defenses, putting her guard back up.

“It doesn’t matter what you want, Sweet Pea. Stop trying to help me. Go worry about yourself and the rest of your homeless gang.”

Sweet Pea stood up and stepped back from her, his features darkening.

“Fine, I’ll leave. For now. But this is going to come back to bite you in the ass, Lodge. You aren’t safe there. And people are going to find out; it’s just a waiting game.”

With that, Sweet Pea turned around and strode towards the door. At the sign of his friend walking towards him, Jughead pressed his body against the wall, hoping that he wouldn’t be caught eavesdropping on, what he now realized, was a private conversation.

Sweet Pea strode past him and Jughead relaxed his body, relieved at not getting caught. He started to walk away before he realized he wasn’t as stealthy as he thought he was being.

“How long have you been there?” Veronica asked angrily, her voice coming from beside the door. She must have been right behind Sweet Pea, but Jughead was so lost in thought by the whole conversation he didn’t expect her to catch his sleuthing.

“I… Not long. What were you guys talking about?” he asked, hoping to keep his voice steady and keep his desperation for answers out of his tone.

“Can any of you Serpents keep your nose in your own business, or does part of gang initiation include sticking your heads in places they don’t belong?” Veronica asked, shoving past the boy and swiveling to look around at him.

“You. Me. Tomorrow at Pop’s. I’m done with you idiots and your never-ending supply of unsolicited attempts at helping.”

Veronica turned around sharply, stomping back into the bedroom Cheryl provided to her for the night and slammed the door in the Serpent’s face. Jughead stood there, confused at everything he heard and anxious at getting caught. The more he thought he understood about Veronica Lodge, the less he realized he knew. He prided himself on his intellect, but he was completely ignorant when it came to the raven-haired powerhouse.

Still buzzed from the whisky and not feeling comfortable driving back home, Jughead headed back to the barn. And there he was, left alone in the massive room, pacing back and forth, trying to make sense of the events of the night.


	8. The Sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I'm trying to update at least every other day, so I just want to warn everyone that there may be typos. I've slowly been going through all of my chapters and editing them, so hopefully I've caught everything. I have changed some of the phrasing and added certain things in previous chapters, so reread them if you would like, but it isn't necessary for the progression of the story.
> 
> I also want to thank everyone that's left comments on the work. I love them and they motivate me, so keep them coming! As a reminder, you do not have to be an AO3 member to leave comments or kudos! ;)
> 
> Anyway, without further ado, the next chapter, where we finally get the beginnings of some Jeronica!

The ticking of the clock in his trailer was driving him nuts. It’s like time was taunting him, letting him know that he was getting closer and closer to having to face Veronica. Jughead groaned, throwing his head back against the top of the couch. He looked up at the clock again.

He needed to leave. After his last two confrontations with Veronica, the first being when he compared her to her father and the second being him getting caught eavesdropping on a clearly private conversation, he had no room for error. A pissed off Veronica Lodge was a force to be reckoned with, and he wasn’t keen on being the target of her irritation.

He had epically fucked up twice in the span of two days. And the more he discovered about Veronica, the guiltier he felt about his previous attitudes towards her.

She was living at Pop’s. The revelation that he had found out last night continued to confuse him. He couldn’t understand why the girl would be living there rather than in her luxury apartment with servants and drivers and bottomless mimosas and designer bedding. Things were strained with Hiram, he knew, but that didn’t explain why she wasn’t living in her home.

Tick. Tock.

Jughead shot the clock a glare of resentment, knowing that he had to leave now if he didn’t want to be late. He stood up, his body aching from all the manual labor he had been performing these last several weeks, and grabbed his Serpent jacket, throwing it on and snapping it tight against his back. He walked outside. It was a muggy, unpleasant day. The sun hid deceptively behind the overcasting clouds. Rather than cooling down the temperature, however, it just managed to trap all the humidity in the air. The weather mirrored his mood, dark and brooding with heat and anger simmering underneath.

Getting on his bike, he began the ride to Pop’s, anxiety spiking at his near encounter with Veronica Lodge.

 

*****

 

When he arrived at Pop’s, he saw Veronica standing near the door to the kitchen. She looked so much better. Last night he had seen her at her most vulnerable, at least her most vulnerable in front of him. Her hair had been frazzled, skin flushed, eyes puffy from tears. But today, she looked more like the Veronica Lodge with which he was accustomed. Hair sleek and straight, a tight blouse tucked into her form-fitting pencil skirt, and her black leather heels tapping impatiently upon the tile.

He looked at her sheepishly, apologizing with a timid shrug of his shoulders for his tardiness. She rolled her eyes and then motioned for him to follow her with a nod of her head.

So he did. They went down to the basement and Veronica hoisted herself onto the stage, sitting on the edge of it. He expected her to start off the conversation by berating him for eavesdropping, but instead she just sat there staring at him. Jughead supposed she expected him to start the conversation. Just as he was about to open his mouth, she asked him a question.

“How much did you hear last night?” she snapped, a slight tinge of annoyance peppering her voice.

Jughead considered lying to her, telling her he had just walked up as Sweet Pea was walking out, but then thought back to his conversation with Betty.

‘When it comes to Veronica Lodge, honesty is the best policy,’ the memory of Betty’s words ringing in his mind.

That didn’t make this any easier, though, he thought.

“I heard enough,” he said cautiously.

“What? Tell me exactly what you heard?” she demanded, scooting her bottom off the stage and walking over to him. For such a short, angelic looking girl, she could be terrifying. There was fire in her eyes and determination covering her facial features.

Jughead took a deep breath to try and focus himself before speaking. He looked up at the ceiling, not wanting to meet her eyes for this next part.

“You’re living here. At Pop’s. Somewhere in this basement.” 

He looked back down, glancing at her eyes, willing her to tell him everything he wanted to know.

“Why?” he asked.

Veronica’s shoulders slumped, the fire in her eyes extinguished. She started walking around the room, inspecting the walls while trying to decide what to say next. Finally, she turned back and looked at him, a spark reignited.

“Who all have you told?” she questioned, the authority in her voice trying to command an answer.

“No one, I swear!” 

Jughead threw his hands up, trying to convey that he was telling the truth.

“I haven’t spoken with anyone since I accidentally stumbled upon you and Sweet Pea last night.”

She scoffed.

“Accidentally? Okay, Jones. Try again. What were you doing up there?”

Jughead was already in too deep; he might as well tell her the whole truth.

“I… I was curious. I knew you and Sweet Pea were keeping something from me, and he wouldn’t tell me, said he didn’t want to betray your trust, which only flamed my curiosity more because honestly, why would Sweet Pea care about betraying you? Not that you deserve to be betrayed, but it’s not like you and Sweet Pea are friends. But then I thought you were. Friends, I mean. Actually more than friends; I accused him of having an affair with you,” Jughead laughed nervously. He was rambling, words spilling out of his mouth before he had time to stop them, but Veronica had a way of making him nervous, causing him to forget his large vocabulary, his perfect articulation. He continued.

“Which he shut down quickly! No worries! But then I was really confused because what secret would the two of you have together and I couldn’t figure out why you were dressed in your night clothes so I was going to talk to you directly since Sweet Pea wasn’t giving anything up. So I got up to your room and the door was ajar so I started to walk in, but then I heard voices, your voices, and thought I would wait because I didn’t want to interrupt and then I just happened to hear you guys discussing your situation. Well... the last part isn’t true. I wasn’t trying to keep from interrupting you. I was just trying to get answers and I went about it in a completely unethical way, which is pretty typical of me. I can get obsessive sometimes. A lot of times, actually. Betty always tells me that…”

“God, Jughead, stop. You’re yapping like a little kid trying to tell a story.”

Jughead was about to apologize when Veronica held up a finger to him, motioning for him to wait. She sighed, and then started walking around the room again, attempting to absorb Jughead’s overload of information.

She stopped, swiveling around and looking at him accusingly.

“You thought I was having an affair with Sweet Pea?” she asked incredulously.

“I just…” but he was interrupted again by her finger motioning to stop as she resumed walking around the room. Finally, she turned back around, her attention focused on Jughead as she began strolling back to her seat upon the stage, hoisting herself up and sitting.

“To begin, Jughead, let me remind you that any secrets I choose to keep are exactly that: secrets. And if I wanted to tell you about them, then they wouldn’t be secrets anymore. And if I so desired for you to know about my living situation, then I would have reached out to you directly. And furthermore, Inspector Clouseau, if you were so hellbent on finding out the inner-workings of my life, then you are in dire need of improving your detective skills. The first key to being a successful eavesdropper is to not get caught.”

Jughead felt as if he was being lectured. The old Veronica was back. Gone was any trace of the vulnerable girl he had seen last night. He was at a loss for words, not knowing how to respond to her previous admonishment, when her features softened.

Meekly, she asked him, “Jughead, please don’t tell anyone.”

Jughead looked at her quizzically. 

“Who would I tell? Archie and Betty are the only people I really talk to, and they already know…”

Veronica bristled.

“They know? I thought you said you didn’t tell anyone!” she pressed, raising her voice.

He threw his hands back up in the air indicating innocence, his pose of choice around his raven-haired peer.

“I didn’t! I just assumed…”

Veronica pushed herself off the stage and ran over to him, grabbing him by the collar.

“Jughead, you cannot tell them,” she implored him.

He was floored. He was so caught off guard that he just stood there and let her hold his jacket, gripping onto it with white knuckles, desperation in her typically poised features.

Slowly, he responded.

“Veronica… who all knows you’re living here?” he asked hesitantly.

She slumped, letting go of his jacket and turning away from him. She looked up, trying to regain some semblance of self-control.

“You. And Sweetpea,” she finally answered.

Her response only caused more questions to pop up in his mind. Why wouldn’t she tell anyone? Not even Archie? And how was it that Sweet Pea knew? He tried to stop himself from blurting his line of interrogation out all at once. One question at a time, he scolded himself mentally.

“Why haven’t you told Archie or Betty?” he asked.

She turned back around, looking at him, a shell of the powerful woman with whom he was so familiar. Going back to her seat on the edge of the stage, she answered.

“It’s… complicated. I just…” Veronica struggled, thinking of the right words, “They both have so much to deal with. Archie is on trial for murder, and it’s my fault. And don’t say it isn’t because if we had never started dating, if I had never introduced him to my father, none of this would have happened. And Betty. Jughead, she just found out her father is a serial killer. He killed our classmates and she has to deal with the repercussions. And it isn’t fair to them. My problems are so insignificant to the things they’re facing. How could I burden them with my petty sleeping arrangements when they are facing these massive, life-altering events?”

Jughead just looked at her. He had always assumed Veronica was completely self-serving. She was kind to others, but not at the sake of her own personal fulfillment. He didn’t think her capable of selfless acts. Everything she did and said seemed to be a part of the role she was playing as Hiram Lodge’s daughter. But before he could dwell on this new revelation, another question loomed larger in his mind.

“But why? Why are you living here?” he asked quietly.

She looked at him for nearly a minute, tears starting to well up in her eyes. She had tried for so hard to keep everything inside, to put on a brave and confident front, the Lodge way. Her father’s way. But she was just so tired, so exhausted of holding it all in. She had tried to confide in Archie, but had been quickly shut down. It had hurt, and it had damaged her defences. It was only a matter of time before she let it all out, and, as much as she tried to fight it, Jughead was going to be on the receiving end of it.

“I’m done, Jughead. I’m out. I’m not a Lodge anymore. I gave it all up because it was the only choice I had if I wanted right the wrongs of my father. I don’t have anything anymore, my money, the Pembrooke, my car, my credit cards, my closet, my home, my mom, my dad. It’s all gone. But I didn’t have a choice. He was going to destroy everything!”

At this point, tears were actively streaming down her cheeks. Jughead didn’t know what to do, so he just stood there, letting her release the flood of emotions that she had been suppressing for so long.

“He ripped the soul out of this town. He took Southside High. Sunnyside Trailer Park. The drive-in. He used my mother as a pawn against Fred, who is so good and so wholesome and they destroyed him. And he lied and tried to convince me that it was for the best and I was just so goddamn stupid, hoping that he had changed, that he was the father I had always wanted, but it was just wishful thinking, the hopeful thoughts of a silly little girl with no grasp on reality.”

Finally, she looked up at him, her chest rising and falling as her breath got more and more unsteady.

“And, you, Jughead. I can’t stand to be around you. I can’t stand to see your face. You want to know why I’ve been so cool towards you all summer? Because I look at you and I see something I can’t stand to see. I see my father nearly killing a boy. My friend. My boyfriend’s best friend. My best friend’s boyfriend. And I hate him for it. Hate. Loathe. Abhor. Despise. And I was an active participant. So all those awful feelings towards my father? He wasn’t the only guilty one. When I look at you, I hate myself.”

Finally, she broke down, her shoulders heaving with sobs, her head buried in her hands.

Jughead was dumbfounded. He didn’t know what to say, and he didn’t know what to do, so he hesitantly made his way toward the stage where Veronica was sitting.

She looked up when she felt him sit down next to her, and upon seeing his face, she started crying even harder.

“I’m,” she hiccuped, “sorry. It’s not fair to you. You shouldn’t have to see this. Not after everything I did,” she said between gasps of air.

Uncertainty, he tried to put his arm around her shoulders in an attempt to console her, but she yanked herself away from him like he was poison.

“No!” she shrieked.

“I don’t deserve it! Don’t try to comfort me! Not after,” she wailed then, “not after I nearly killed you!”

She started hyperventilating. He had never seen her like this. He didn’t even know she was capable of being like this. Veronica Lodge was always in control, poised and proper, shoulders back ready to take on the world. But the girl in front of her was none of that. She was in free-fall, her emotions spiralling. Her typically beautiful face was contorted into one of pain, mascara running down her cheeks and cheeks bright red from her erratic breathing. She was going to pass out if she didn’t regain her senses.

Jughead made a snap decision. He jumped off the stage from where he was perched and moved in front of her, tightly enveloping her with both arms. It was the closest he had been to her since their kiss in Shadow Lake. But somehow, this position was more intimate.

He hadn’t realized she was being so strong for everyone else. He didn’t know about the sacrifices she had made, sacrifices for people that didn’t care about her, for people she had only known for the year that she’d been living in Riverdale.

He felt so guilty. Guilty for thinking she was anything like her father. Guilty for accusing her of being on his side. She was nothing like Hiram. Sure, they had the same sense of control, they could both dominate a conversation and walk in a room like it was something they owned, but that is where the parallels stopped.

Where Hiram was cold and manipulative, Veronica was just a girl trying to please her father and her friends, an impossible task given her father’s plans. He knew what it was like to lose family, to crave a loving father and to defend him despite all his actions because he wanted that change to take place. He and Veronica were two sides of the same coin. She may come from a place of privilege and wealth, and he from poverty and adversity, but they had so much more in common than he realized.

He started to shush her, patting his hand against the back of her head, rubbing it down her hair.

“Veronica, this isn’t your fault. None of it is your fault. And I know you won’t believe me right now, but I know how you feel. It’s the same feeling I had when FP was arrested for Jason’s murder. But you can’t internalize that. You didn’t make those decisions. You just did what you thought was best for your family and no one can blame you for that.”

He continued to murmer words of encouragement and comfort into her ears until she finally calmed herself down and regulated her breathing. Finally, she gently pushed him back and looked up at him. She just stared at him until he spoke.

“You have to tell Archie and Betty,” he said gently, not wanting to upset her further but trying to convey the importance of his request.

“Jughead, I can’t,” she started to say.

“Veronica, you have to. I know you think your pain is insignificant, but it isn’t. It matters. And you can’t carry that load on you. If you do, you’ll just continue to break down. Would you ever in a million years have let yourself cry in front of me?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

She chuckled and nodded her head from side to side. Jughead continued.

“You need to tell them. I can call them over if you’d like. We can meet at the trailer. They need to know, and they’re going to find out eventually. And it isn’t safe here. Not with Malachi showing up. I’ll talk to Cheryl and see if we can put you up in Thistlehouse. And if not, I’m sure someone has a room for you. You’ve done a lot for us, and the Serpents recognize that. We take care of our own.”

Veronica scrunched up her brow at that.

“Jones, slow your roll. I am no Serpent,” she said distastefully, a hint of the old Veronica peeking through.

He laughed.

“Okay, I’ll concede. But, seriously, we need to get you out of here. There are other options. You don’t have to do this alone.”

She nodded, unsure if it was the right decision, but open to his advice. He was right. Jughead Jones was the last person she would have chose to break down in front of. She couldn’t keep carrying this burden alone. And if Archie was resistant to listen, then she would make him. Veronica Lodge was determined to turn her circumstances around. And if that meant seeking help from a minor-league criminal gang, then so be it.


	9. Conversation and Resignation

Sweat was starting to bead on Veronica’s forehead as she ran her hands through her hair nervously for the hundredth time. She still wasn’t sure that this was the right decision, but Jughead was right. She had to tell her friends the truth or risk another breakdown.

Guilt still crept inside her though. She felt selfish, thinking her problems were anything compared to those of her friends, and no matter how many times Jughead or Sweet Pea tried to speak reason into her, she still didn’t feel right.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust them. Far from it, in fact. If there was anyone she could trust, it was not her family, it was her friends. Her friends who were there for her regardless of the fact that their own lives were in shambles, friends who stood up for her against endless waves of accusation and glares in the face of her father’s actions, friends who trusted her implicitly, despite only knowing her for a year and despite all the things that she had done.

When they looked at her, they didn’t see Hiram Lodge and his criminal ways. They didn’t see the mean girl from New York who was hateful and cruel. They didn’t see the spoiled rich daddy’s girl who was unappreciative and calloused.

When they looked at her, they really saw Veronica Lodge. And being in their presence reminded her that she was so much more than her past. Betty, Archie, and Jughead reminded her that she was free to be who she wanted, free from the chains of all her baggage.

Maybe that was why she had been struggling for so long. They grounded her, and without them, she got so caught up in trying to prove herself to the world, to prove that she was more than just Hiram Lodge’s daughter.

Veronica squared her shoulders once more, realizing she had been silent too long, and continued to share her story with the other three teenagers, each listening with rapt attention and sympathetic looks on their faces.

“After my talk with Sweet Pea, we heard a noise and ran upstairs. It was Malachi and a couple of his goons. They busted out one of the windows and tagged the place. I was shook up, but I honestly wasn’t concerned. Then Sweet Pea told me that they saw me with him in his Serpent jacket and that I probably wasn’t safe here anymore. And then Jughead convinced me to tell you guys, and here we are.”

Veronica summed up the story and sat on the couch with her ankles crossed and her hands folded in her lap, a single tear managing to roll down as she tried to remain strong, not willing to have another breakdown.

Betty nodded caringly.

“Veronica, I’m so sorry. I would offer up my place, but Polly and the twins are staying there and she’s brought some people from the farm. We’re just in a weird place right now.”

Veronica held up her hand, shaking her head back and forth.

“Of course not. I wouldn’t expect that of any of you. Cheryl already told me I could stay with her at Thistlehouse if I needed to, and a couple of the Serpents that still have beds open offered up for a while if need be.”

Betty nodded understandingly. 

“I’m sorry, V. I feel awful. I’ve been so wrapped up in everything that’s been going on that I haven’t even managed to see how you were doing. I should have reached out.”

Veronica shook her head again.

“No worries, B. I could have reached out to you, too. I just didn’t want to burden anyone, but Sweet Pea and Jughead convinced me to tell you.”

Veronica spared a glance at Archie and noticed his face looked solemn. He still hadn’t said anything to the group past a couple of clarifying questions and “mhmm’s” as she was telling her story.

Betty leaned over from beside Veronica on the couch and gave the girl a hug.

“I should go,” Betty said regretfully, patting her friend on the cheek.

Veronica nodded, understanding that her friend had so much to deal with at home.

“I’ll walk you out,” Jughead said, standing up and holding his hand out to his girlfriend, helping her up off the couch. Betty gathered her things and the two walked out. Archie remained silent, Veronica sparing glances at him waiting for him to say something. Finally, he spoke, looking up at her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He sounded upset, angry even. Veronica was caught off guard.

“I… I tried, Archie. But the few times you actually answered you just seemed to have so much going on. I didn’t want to burden you with my problems,” Veronica tried explaining.

“So you tell Jughead and Sweet Pea? Sweet Pea, Veronica? Jesus, you barely know him,” Archie responded bitterly.

Veronica was taken aback.

“I didn’t tell him, Archie! He found out! I couldn’t have stopped him.”

She was indignant at his line of questioning, and despite attempting to keep emotion out of her voice, she still came off a bit short.

“Okay, well what about Jughead?” he asked accusingly.

Veronica was about to retort but then paused. Jughead was an accident as well, but she hadn’t told Archie that. She didn’t want to explain that he had been spying on her and Sweet Pea in the guest bedroom and Cheryl’s, so in her abridged version of events, she edited out that fact and said she had told Jughead herself. And it wasn’t a complete lie. He may have found out about her living situation via eavesdropping, but she had told him way more than just that.

When she told her edited version, Jughead looked at her quizzically. She only met his eye for a moment before bowing her head, hoping to hide the red that was creeping up on her cheeks.

This one little like wasn’t going to hurt Archie, after all. It was a small detail. And it wasn’t as if she and Sweet Pea had been doing anything wrong. But the little voice in the back of her head chastised her, telling her that if nothing had happened she wouldn’t have feared telling Archie the whole truth. And although nothing physically happened, her whole relationship, ‘no,’ she told herself, acquaintanceship with Sweet Pea felt wrong, like she was somehow betraying Archie by allowing herself to be vulnerable around the Serpent.

“Veronica?” he asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Jughead is my friend. He caught me in a moment of vulnerability. The Ghoulies had just attacked, and he just happened to be there.” 

Veronica pushed her shoulders back, trying to emulate confidence and hoping that Archie wouldn’t see through her. Instead, he rolled his eyes.

“Jughead is barely your friend. I mean, you guys have had what? Like one conversation outside of being around me and Betty.”

“Two!” she snapped, sounding like a child trying to prove a point.

“Exactly! So sorry for thinking it sounds weird that you would tell him something you couldn’t even manage to tell your boyfriend.”

The anger on Archie’s face was still prevalent and Veronica’s was starting to mirror his. She had already been resistant to telling them, hiding it for months in an attempt to make their lives easier. Betty understood. She was so gracious and kind and compassionate, and when Betty left, Veronica was sure that opening up to her friends was the right thing to do.

Now, she wasn’t so sure.

“I tried to tell you, Archie! I tried opening up. And every time you cut the conversation short. And then I went over to your house and you kicked me out. You made me feel like you didn’t have time for me!”

“Well I don’t have time for you!” he shouted, and then his face softened, realizing what he had said.

“Ronnie…” he started.

She held up her hand to silence him.

“No,” was all she said, trying to reel in her anger before she spouted off in rage. She pinched the bridge of her nose and looked down, attempting to regain her composure.

She looked back up at Archie. He looked remorseful, a grimace on his face, wishing he could take back what he said.

“Archie, this is why I didn’t tell you. You have too much on your plate to worry about my living situation. I didn’t want to drag you into this.”

Archie groaned, throwing his head backward against the back of the couch.

“That’s nice, Ronnie, but Jughead? You told him?”

She sighed. Maybe it would have been easier if she had just told him the truth, that Jughead had listened in on her conversation with Sweet Pea. But then she would have to explain why Sweet Pea was trying to comfort her and given the way things were currently going with Archie, that would have only made things worse.

Archie started to speak again.

“I mean, you guys aren’t even friends,” he said again, trying to understand.

Veronica bristled. She was tired of the accusing tone in Archie’s voice. She had tried to talk to him, multiple times. She had attempted to let her guard down and tell Archie everything, and every time she did so, he shut her out.

“At least he was there for me, Archie! I’ve been so alone the past two months. I’ve had no one! So sorry if, in a moment of pure uncharacteristic weakness, I leaned on someone else as a source of comfort.”

Archie stood up.

“Comfort, Ronnie? Really? I’ve been dealing with the most stressful situation of my life right on the heels of dealing with the second most stressful situation with the Black Hood, and you’ve been getting ‘comforted’ by other boys?”

This time Veronica stood up.

“‘Comforted by other boys’? It’s Jughead for Christ’s sake! You can tell your toxic masculinity to sit the fuck down! God… Are you threatened by Jughead? What has gotten into you?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Veroinca? Maybe the fact that I’m on trial for a murder I didn’t commit because of your father? And now all of a sudden you are spending time with other boys instead of me?”

“You are always so quick to anger, Archie Andrews! You know what they say about making assumptions? Actually, you clearly don’t. They make an ass out of you! But not me, Archie, not this time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he yelled back.

“It means, Archie, that you are so busy convincing yourself of some made-up truth that you can’t see reality when it’s staring you straight in the face! You were convinced Miss Grundy loved you and you couldn’t see that she was just using you as some perverted boy toy. And you were convinced that Valerie was the girl for you so you dropped me as a singing partner like I was nothing. And you were convinced that I didn’t love you because I’m fucked up and I told you I needed time to say it back. You were convinced that you could never love Betty, and then you go and kiss her after we had been broken up for what? A week? You were convinced you were meant to be a musician but then you just completely dropped it to kiss my dad’s ass. You were convinced that forming a fucking shirtless teenage vigilante group was the only way to protect the town, not once, but twice! And now you’re convinced that I’m being some awful girlfriend when I’ve told you multiple times that I tried to reach out. What am I supposed to do, Archie? Tell me what to do to fix this, to fix us, because I’m at a loss. I don’t know what you want from me.”

Veronica fell back onto the couch with a thud, mentally and emotionally drained from her outburst. She hadn’t meant to say any of that, but Archie always got so caught up in seeing things only through his eyes and she needed him to understand her. She felt a body plop down next to her, and then looked up as Archie reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers together.

“I’m sorry, Ronnie,” he said quietly.

She didn’t respond, not knowing what to say. He squeezed her hand.

“I know I can be difficult, but I don’t know how to navigate this. I thought things would get better after Jason’s murder, and then I thought they would after Hal was arrested, but they aren’t. My life is getting more and more difficult and I don’t know what to do.”

Veronica grabbed his head, placing one hand on each cheek and pulling her toward him.

“Then let me help you, lean on me,” she urged, a tone of pleading in her voice.

Archie sighed, pulling back from her grasp.

“You asked me where we go from here, what to do. The truth is, Ronnie, I don’t know. I don’t know how things can go back to the way they were before. Everything is just too different. We’re too different.”

Veronica nodded, clenching her jaw and lifting up her head, trying desperately to hold back the tears that she knew would come once he finished talking.

“I don’t think we can be together. Not forever, but not right now.”

She let out a single sob.

“You want to take a break?” she asked through sobs, already knowing the answer but childishly hoping she was wrong.

“I don’t want you to put your life on hold for me. It’s not fair to you,” he said apologetically.

“Do I get a choice in this?” she asked bitterly.

“Ronnie, this is for the best. I love you. I always will. But sometimes love isn’t enough.”

She started openly sobbing, laying down on her side and curling her body inwards.

“Ronnie…” Archie started to say.

“Just go!” she yelled.

“Please, just…”

“No, Archie. Please, I need to be alone. You’re right. I’m sorry and I love you, but please just go,” she said, her voice muffled by the pillow she was holding to her face.

Archie sighed, but got up and headed towards the door.

“I’ll always love you, Ronnie,” he said, turning around and giving her a sad smile before leaving.

Veronica continued to sob, not stopping when she heard the door to the trailer open again.

“Veronica, what’s going on? I heard yelling and Archie just walked past me without saying good…”

Jughead paused upon looking at the sight in front of him. Veronica was curled up, knees to her chest, upon his couch. She wasn’t making any noise but her body was shaking violently with silent sobs. He quickly ran over to her, kneeling next to the couch and pulling her in a hug.

She shoved him away, sitting up and glaring at him. Three times now had Jughead seen her like this, but this time was by far the worst. Her mascara had been completely cried off, running in lines down her cheeks. Her eyes were puffy and swollen. Her cheeks were blotchy, redness appearing in an unattractive manner.

“Veronica?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

“This is your fault,” she stated, sobs quickly dried up and replaced with anger.

“What?” he asked, confused at her statement.

“Everything is ruined and it’s because of you,” she started to say.

“You… you… he left me, and it never would have happened if you hadn’t spied on me in the first place, and then convinced me to tell them after I told you multiple times that it was a bad idea.”

Her hardened face started slipping again and her sobs returned. She stood up, legs wobbly as if she had been drinking even though she was as sober as a child. She gathered her things and pushed past a confused Jughead, heading towards the door.

“Where are you going?” he asked, following her outside.

“To Cheryl’s,” she yelled without looking back.

Jughead jogged to catch up to her. He was convinced her short stature must be an illusion at this point, because despite her short legs, it took him several paces to get next to her.

“Let me drive you,” he said breathlessly, grabbing her elbow before she yanked it out of his grasp, continuing forward.

“I’ll walk,” she stated, relentless in her fast pace.

“It’s nearly dark out. Let me give you a ride. It isn’t safe, Veronica!” he pleaded, trying to get her to see reason.

Suddenly, she stopped walking, spinning around. Jughead didn’t have time to stop and he ran right into her, making both unsteady on their feet. Instinctively, he reached out to keep her from falling. She looked surprised, staring at his where his hand was clasped on her waist, before staring into his eyes.

“Why do you care, Jughead? I don't. It doesn’t matter anymore. None of it matters. I lost the boy and my father won the war. I’m just… tired. I can’t do any of this. Please, just let me go.”

Her voice was soft and there was no anger or sadness left in her tone. There was nothing. She was a girl broken by all the things she had experienced in such a short amount of time.

Jughead looked at her, his heart clenching at the sight in front of him. He’d seen her vulnerable so many times now, and each time he did it felt like the first time. He still wasn’t used to the undefeatable Veronica Lodge giving up.

He thought about taking her back by force, throwing her in FP’s pickup truck and driving him to Cheryl’s himself, but he knew that would only make things worse. Instead, he let go of her and started walking.

“What are you doing?” she asked, resuming her long strides in an attempt to match his pace.

“Well if you insist on walking, at least let me walk you halfway, out of the Southside.”

She thought about arguing him but decided against it. It would be pointless, and she was done arguing for the day. They walked in silence, Jughead walking her well past the halfway point before stopping and turning around, telling her to text him when she made it to Cheryl’s. Veronica carried on, making it to the gates of Thornhill before heading into the guest bedroom Cheryl had prepared for her at Thistlehouse. She changed into her borrowed nightgown, washed her face, and threw herself on the bed in exhaustion, not even taking the time to get under the covers. Before she fell asleep, she sent Jughead a text telling her she had made it, and then closed her eyes, ready for this day to be put in the past.


	10. Genesis 1:2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple things:
> 
> First, thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos! You don't know how much I appreciate it and how much it motivates me to continue to write, even when I would rather just bum out on the couch and watch Netflix.
> 
> Second, regarding Archie last chapter, I really don't want anyone to think that this is an Archie-bashing fic. That really isn't my purpose, but I was trying to convey his more simplistic thought process. He does seem to convince himself of things that aren't reality in the show, and I was trying to make that come across in their conversation. I do like Archie, a lot, but I just don't necessarily like Varchie, as I feel that their personalities are too different to work long-term.
> 
> Also, this is kind of a filler chapter, but continues to build on Veronica's mental state, which is something I really wanted to approach in this fic. I want readers to get a better insight than what they see on the show, or at least my interpretation of an insight into the inner workings of Veronica's mind. I promise we will be getting to the ships, but this fic is drawn out. Background and character development is important to me, so please be patient.
> 
> Finally, please leave comments and kudos (if you like the story, that is; but you can still leave comments even if you don't; I know I'm not world's best writer and could definitely use the feedback)! Sorry if I'm begging for validation, but it really does keep me going! And, as a reminder, you don't have to be an Archive of Our Own member to leave kudos or comments :)
> 
> Thanks everyone! And enjoy!

Veronica switched the phone to her other hand, laying pack down and resting it against her ear. It had been two days since she and Archie had broken up, and she and Betty finally got the chance to talk about it for the first time since.

“Do you think there’s any chance the two of you will get back together?” Betty asked her friend earnestly.

Veronica sighed, her melodramatic armour back in place after nearly a week of showing her insecurities.

“I doubt it, B. I’m not ruling anything out, but Archiekins and I are like the sun and the moon, constantly chasing each other, but in the end only destined to meet for a brief moment before day chases out the night, cycle never ending.”

“I’m sorry, V. I know how much he means to you.”

Her friend sounded apologetic, and Veronica was sure the concern in her voice was sincere. But part of her had been wondering if ever chasing Archie was a mistake. No, it went deeper than that. Was moving to Riverdale and trying to reinvent herself as a nice girl a mistake?

She wanted so much to change after leaving New York. Had she not been attempting to purify herself, she never would have became friends with Betty, and in return with Jughead and Archie. If she hadn’t came around, perhaps the other three never would have pursued Jason Blossom’s murderer as they did. And, sure, Clifford Blossom might have gotten away with murder, but had they never caught him, Betty would have never delivered her speech at the town hall that set her father out on a righteous and misguided path.

And had Hal never became the Black Hood, then Archie would not have sought her father out as a strong male figure. Cassidy Pope might have lived and Archie wouldn’t be framed for a murder he didn’t commit. And Alice and Betty wouldn’t be falling victim to the weird cult-like farm that Polly brought back with her. In fact, Polly may have never returned, knowing that Jason’s killer was still on the loose. Hiram would have never been able to use Archie to sew chaos into the town. The riots very well may have never happened, Fangs would have never gotten shot because Midge would still be alive. And Jughead wouldn’t have been beaten within an inch of his life, the action that incited a gang war and led to an entire population being displaced from her home.

Had Veronica just continued on her path as a mean girl, then she never would have interacted with Betty, Archie, and Jughead. The Core Four would have never existed. And everyone would have been happier for it.

Betty’s voice on the other line snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Veronica? You okay?” she asked, concern lacing her voice.

The raven-haired girl grimaced.

“Of course, Betty. I’ll bounce back, I always do. Daddy always said that you can’t keep a Lodge down, and if his recent string of monopolizing power proves anything, it’s that he was right. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, V. I’m so sorry you’re having to go through this right now. I wish I could be there with you.”

“B, no! You have enough going on in your life. I can manage to recover from a small bout of teenage heartbreak,” Veronica laughed to her friend, trying to lighten the mood and not allowing her defences to slip again.

Betty chuckled too.

“That doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t be there for you, though. I feel so awful not reaching out when you’ve had such horrible things going on in your life.”

“Nonsense! Betty, I can handle it, I promise. We’re both just so busy, both dealing with so much for people our age. God, I wish I could be like Reggie sometimes. The most he has to deal with is making sure his hair is perfectly coiffed.”

The two girls laughed. Veronica needed this, needed her best friend. It had been too long since she had spoke with the girl. Betty was like sunshine. She radiated warmth and comfort, and Veronica felt safe with her loving voice ringing through the phone.

Veronica heard someone calling for Betty in the background.

“Oh, Veronica I better go. My mom needs help putting the twins down.”

“Okay. Have fun, Aunt Betty,” she smiled through the phone.

The other girl said goodbye and hung up the phone. Veronica closed her eyes, resting her head against the pillow and smiled.

Things were difficult right now, more difficult than they ever had been. She missed how easy living with her parents made things. There were so many comforts in which she was unable to find pleasure anymore. Having people to help her, to shop for her, to drive her. Having a wardrobe full of designer clothes, hundreds of pairs of shoes from which to choose. Having the ease of always accessible funds, able to swipe her card anytime something caught her fancy.

But she also missed the comfort of her mother’s voice when she was going through a difficult time. She missed sitting on the couch with her, resting her head on her mother’s lap. She missed her father coming home, smiling at the two women as if they were his favorite things in the world. She missed having a family. She missed being a Lodge.

At that thought, she frowned. Veronica was so conflicted when thinking of her surname. All her life, she was told that it was something to be proud of, her most prized possession. People could take away everything from her, but not her name. At the end of the day, she would be a Lodge through and through. 

But now, when she thought of her last name, she felt dirty. Shame burned through her veins, knowing that everything associated with Lodge was corrupt and selfish, ruthlessly taking no matter whose lives hung in the balance.

She had to let go of those feelings of disgrace. After the Black Hood was revealed to be Hal, she had told Betty time and time again to stop blaming herself for what her father did. Betty claimed complicity, but Veronica told her that it wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t have stopped Hal if she had tried. He made the choice to hurt others, no matter what Betty felt she might have said or did to cause it.

Veronica needed to take her own advice. She has been holding on to so much self-loathing for the past two months. She felt so ashamed it caused her to close herself off to others. The few people she would tolerate being around--Sweet Pea, Jughead, FP--all told her it wasn’t her fault, but there was some blockade in her brain keeping her from seeing reason.

This was going to be a journey, she thought. Re-discovering herself, trying to let go of the past. She thought about seeing a therapist, but that was out of the question right now. She had no money and she couldn’t have her parents discovering counseling from their insurance company. They would see it as a sign of weakness, and any sign of weakness Veronica displayed would be an open invitation to strike.

Things had gotten better in the past two days, though. As much as she had chastised herself for being vulnerable in front of everyone, it had felt good. Like every sentence of the truth she spoke was a weight being lifted, lightening the load of guilt she had been carrying for far too long. 

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” she shouted. The door opened to reveal Fangs.

“Sorry, I know it’s late. Didn’t mean to disturb you,” the Serpent said, heading to the bathroom attached to the guest suite.

Staying at Thistlehouse was a vast improvement upon living in the basement, but what had in comfort, it lacked in privacy. She was told on moving day that she would be sharing a room with Fangs. Cheryl had brought in a sleeper sofa from the sitting room, so the two would not be sharing a bed, but they would be bunked up together.

It hadn’t been as bad as Veronica had imagined, although they were only on night two. Fangs wasn’t like the other Serpents. The others were bullheaded, rushing into things head-first with so much aggression. And they were so exclusive, fiercely loyal to their comrades but intensely suspicious of outsiders.

Fangs wasn’t like that though. She had gotten to know the Serpent a little better in the past six weeks. She had hired him to complete the electrical work in the basement, him having experience from working with his uncle as a contractor. They became quick friends, the two joking and sharing a mutual respect for modern culture, both adoring trashy reality TV while also being able to appreciate the negative impact scripted television had on modern society.

He was fun and lighthearted, and he managed to get her mind off all the bitterness hardening her heart every once in a while.

She smiled at him, sitting up in the bed and putting on her glasses.

“Rough day?” she smirked.

Fangs shot her a scathing glance. His shirt was covered in dust and torn in several places. His hair was a mess and his face was smeared with dirt.

“No thanks to you,” he snipped at her.

He started doing his best imitation of Veronica, raising his voice and sticking his nose in the air.

“I’m Veronica Lodge, and I decided at the ripe old age of 16 that I would open a speakeasy in the dark, musty basement of a diner that hasn’t been renovated Eisenhower was president. Oh, and I don’t plan on hiring actual contractors but instead paying teenage boys who know the bare minimum about renovations to do the work.”

She broke out in a fit of laughter. He looked and sounded absolutely ridiculous.

“Coolidge,” she said between gasps, her laughter getting out of control.

“What?” he asked, puzzled, his voice returning to normal.

“You said Wilson,” she giggled. “The basement hasn’t been renovated since the 1920s, when Coolidge was president.”

Fangs returned her laughter.

“And that was a piss-poor attempt at an impression of me!” she added for good measure, faux-indignance in her voice.

Fangs continued laughing until he made it into the bathroom, closing the door behind him and turning on the faucet to draw a bath.

She smiled at that. He was so unlike his friends. What grown man draws himself a bath after a long day at work?

‘I suppose the same type of man who constantly steals my bath bombs and face masks,’ she chuckled to herself.

With that, she took off her glasses and turned off her bedside lamp, settling in under the covers and being lulled to sleep by Fangs singing Celine Dion from the restroom while he bathed.

 

*****

 

The next day, Veronica got ready and headed towards Pops. She put on her running shoes and leggings, throwing a change of clothes in her backpack and began her morning run.

She had made this a bit of a tradition, if you can call a routine she started doing three days ago one. It got her mind off things and gave her body some much needed exercise. She could already tell a difference, the stiffness that had been building in her joints loosening during each run. It also gave her an excuse to not have to call Jughead or Sweet Pea for a ride.

Things had been awkward with both of them since their respective episodes. Sweet Pea seemed cool towards her, his typically flirty mannerisms replaced with a distant attitude. That she could handle, although she would rather not, but Jughead was a different matter entirely. After breaking down in front of him three times within a week, he acted like she was some fragile child, as if the smallest slight would make her burst out in tears.

Honestly she didn’t know how Betty could handle it. He was exhausting, constantly asking her if she was okay and chastising others when they gave her a hard time, even if they were joking. It had led to quite a few moments of her snapping at him, which he responded to sheepishly, a far cry from the stubborn and hot-headed boy she knew so well. But really, how many times could she be expected to respond “I’m fine” robotically before he would get the message?

When she got to Pop’s, she was relieved to see no one else in the basement. She needed some time alone. That was the one perk she had when she was living in her makeshift bedroom under the diner floors. She had planned on changing when she arrived, but decided against it, knowing that she needed to get to work doing some deep cleaning on the ceiling.

The basement had been in disrepair whenever she began renovations. The flooring was ruined, rotting out in multiple places, and had to be replaced completely. The wallpaper was peeling and she had began the arduous task of peeling it off the walls, borrowing a steamer from Cheryl and completely ruining her nails.

The electrical work was completely fucked, as was the plumbing. They had fixed the plumbing, but Fangs was still messing around with the wiring, doing his best to get all the switches and outlets to work as intended. FP had nearly finished with the stage and bar area; now all that was left was cosmetic work, putting up curtains, staining the wood, and more.

But the ceiling was her crown jewel. It was the original tin roof, straight from the 1920s. It was in rough shape, but she had FP look over it and he said it was salvageable, so that was her task for the day. She brought out the ladder and filled a bucket with diluted cleaner, which should be strong enough to deep clean the intricate pattern of the square tin tiles.

Starting out, the task was easy. She used a soft bristle brush with the cleaner and built up dirt and grime were coming off easily. But soon her arm became sore, tiring out from holding it up and applying pressure to the ceiling. She decided to take a break, carefully climbing up the ladder and moving towards the stairs, craving a burger and fries.

As she was almost to the top of the stairs, she heard a loud bang. She fell down ungracefully, sliding down the remainder of the stairs and hurting her back and butt in the process. For a moment, she was frozen. Loud noises still triggered her, ever since the night of the riots, when her mother had shot a man in front of Veronica’s eyes.

She was quickly pulled out of her trance by the sound of running water. She got up, looking for the source of the noise, which wasn’t difficult as she saw water starting to pool from underneath the bar.

She ran over and threw open the cabinets, finding the source of the noise. It was a burst pipe. Frantically, she ripped off the jacket tied around her waist and pressed it against the opening in the pipes, doing everything she could to stem the flow of rushing water. It didn’t work.

She had to think fast, or this could ruin everything they had worked on the past several weeks. She got out her phone and called FP with one hand, keeping her other pressed against the leak. There was no answer, so she tried to call Fangs. When he also failed to pick-up, she made a snap decision to call Sweet Pea. At this point, she needed any help she could get. She heard him answer.

“Lodge,” he said cooly.

“Sweet Pea! I need help. I was working in the basement and there was a loud noise…” but before she could finish, Sweet Pea cut her off.

“It’s the Ghoulies?” he sounded angry. 

“No! Sweet Pea, it’s not…” she tried to explain before he interrupted once again.

“I’ll kill them. We’re all coming over. This ends now,” he said, his anger replaced with outright rage.

“No! Dammit, SP, listen! A pipe burst in the kitchen. I’m trying to close it up with my jacket but it’s still leaking. I need help!” she yelled into her phone.

“Fuck! Okay, listen. Look for the outlet for the water. You need to turn it off. I’m at Cheryl’s now with Jughead, Fangs, and Hogeye. We’re on our way. But you find the source and turn it off before it does too much damage. I’ll call FP and get him to head over too.”

She muttered a quick word of thanks before hanging up, looking at her poor attempt to stem the water flow hesitantly before taking Sweet Pea’s advice and looking for the water valve. She had to search for several minutes before finding it, but she was able to cut the water off. The gushing waterfall that was coming out of the pipe underneath the bar quickly lost power, now just dripping out slowly.

Once it was completely off, she sunk to the floor, cradling her head in her hands.

“Fuuuucccckkkk!” she yelled out to the heavens, shaking her fist at whatever deity would listen. She was sure the patrons above dining in Pop’s could hear her, but she didn’t care. She was so exhausted, and she didn’t want to add this on to her laundry list of shit to have to deal with. It was as if the universe was working against her, constantly testing her and sending her curveballs, and, dammit, she was so over pivoting to accommodate them. 

It wasn’t long before she heard clamoring above her, several voices talking over one another, and saw the group of men and Cheryl heading down the stairs.

FP pushed through all of them; he must have arrived at the same time as the others, she supposed. He assessed the damage, and then repeated her earlier expletive.

“Fuck,” was all he said.


	11. Cause Every Little Thing Gonna Be Alright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! Comments and kudos appreciated!

Sweat ran down the dark-haired boy’s forehead as he ran around looking for an outlet in which to plug up the box fan FP brought over. He was feeling anxious with so many people crowded around the tiny area where the bar sat.

“Jughead! Plug that fan up!” he heard his father yell, his voice muffled from his head being stuck in the cabinets where the leak originated.

“Working on it!” he shouted back, finally finding an outlet near the bar and positioning the fan towards the open cabinet drawers.

The past hour had been hectic after Sweet Pea had received a frantic call from Veronica. He was with his fellow Serpent when he answered, and was immediately angry upon hearing Sweet Pea’s assertion that the Ghoulies had attacked again.

Fortunately, that had just been Sweet Pea jumping to conclusions, but it did prod Jughead to start formulating a plan on how to handle the rival gang. He didn’t have much time to dwell, however, as things got even more chaotic when the group arrived in the basement.

The scene was a mess, water all over the floor, possibly ruining it, and Veronica looking furious. He thought of the raven-haired girl, who was currently in her former sleeping chambers with Cheryl changing out of her wet clothes, and grimaced. Things had been awkward between the two after her break-up with Archie. He was so concerned about her, knowing how it felt to be broken with the world working against you, so he was constantly checking up on her, wanting to lend her his support so she wouldn’t feel alone, as he had felt so many times before.

She didn’t seem to appreciate it though. In fact, he received clipped responses and annoyed glances every time he asked her how she was doing or if she was okay. That was the thing about Veronica Lodge, he recently realized. She tried so hard to put up a strong front, no doubt one of Hiram’s lessons to his daughter, but he had seen her so vulnerable the past week that he knew she wasn’t as indestructible as she tried to make everyone believe she was. And he was certain that him seeing her in several moments of weakness was not something she enjoyed. Since then, she had been avoiding him as much as possible, back to the way things were before the Ghoulie attack. 

Guilt also lingered in Jughead’s mind, contributing to his growing sense of concern for the girl. Guilt that stemmed from his accusatory declarations against Veronica, arraigning her of actively plotting with her father to take over the Southside. He’s had lots of regrets over the past year, but his defamation of Veronica’s character was near the top.

Finally, FP stood up, wiping his hands on the front of his jeans. It did little good, however, as his pants were soaked through with water from lying on the ground in front of the bar. At the same time, Veronica exited her bedroom with Cheryl, dressed in her familiar pencil skirt and tailored blouse. She walked around and eyed the area appraisingly.

The men had managed to clean up all of the water on the floor. They did have to rip some parquet hardwood up near the bar where it had pooled and already started warping. They still hadn’t turned the water back on, waiting for Hog eye’s cousin to arrive. He had helped with some of the plumbing several weeks ago so was already familiar with the work area.

“What’s the damage, boys?” Veronica asked, pragmatism in her voice. Veronica had no time for worry, because worry implied lack of plans, and if there was anything a Lodge always had, it was a Plan B.

FP looked at her solemnly.

“Good news or bad news?” he asked, wishing that he only had good news to deliver.

Veronica rolled her eyes.

“You should know me well enough to not try and lead with optimism. Bad news, FP,” she stated, beginning to tap her foot against the ground impatiently.

“Well, the flooring’s fucked. Subflooring got wet, so we’re gonna have to tear the whole thing out. We removed the worst area to try and stem the damage, but it was too late. Just too much water, and water and wood don’t mix.”

Veronica’s eyes widened. Jughead supposed that she must have assumed it wouldn’t have been as big of an issue as it was. Maybe there was no Plan B after all, he thought.

“New flooring? We just installed this! It cost a fortune.”

FP grimaced but continued.

“That’s not all. The pipe’s completely ruined, can’t be patched up, so we’re looking at new plumbing. And the bar is ruined. We’re gonna have to start from scratch.”

Veronica slammed her palm against her face, dragging it down and glaring at FP.

“And the good news…?” she asked, impatience heavy in her tone.

“Well, we called John. He said he’d fix the plumbing at cost, not charge for labor. We’d just have to buy the new pipes, which won’t be expensive. And I have some leftover lumber from the stage. There should be enough to rebuild the bar, or at least most of it. We can just reuse the hardware and countertop. But this is gonna set us back at least a week, and that’s with us working overtime. And the new flooring’s gonna cost you a pretty penny.”

Veronica threw her head back, mentally cursing the universe for her recent string of bad luck. She let herself be angry for a moment longer before quickly replacing her frown with a determined smile.

“Okay,” she said. “Okay, we can do this. I can pull a few of your guys from their diner shifts to help out and I’ll cover their spots personally. A little waitressing never hurt anyone. If my mom could do it, I sure as hell can. And as for the flooring… I’ll figure that out. Just give me a day.”

FP nodded and started to gather his things. Before he could, Veronica strolled over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her questioningly.

“And FP,” she said, sincerity lacing her voice, “thank you. I mean it.”

She looked around at the other Serpents, eyes lingering on Jughead and then on Sweet Pea a moment longer.

“Thank you all. Helping me… Look, I know I’m not the easiest to work with at times. I can be demanding and irritable at times. But having you all be willing to stop what you’re doing at the drop of a hat to help me out really means a lot. I didn’t understand Jughead’s loyalty to the Serpents when he first joined. But I think I’m starting to get it. You are a family, and I appreciate you all having my back when I have done nothing to deserve it.”

Jughead and Sweet Pea both spoke up at the same time, ready to defend her, tell her that she is worthy of their help, but she held up a hand to silence them.

“Now, now. That was enough mushy for one day. I have some work to do. The devil works hard but I’ll work harder.” 

They all laughed at that, a fitting end to the unexpected obstacle that occurred that day. They all started gathering their things and heading up stairs. Hog eye lingered. Sweet Pea looked back at him curiously, but Hog eye just shook his his head.

“You go ahead. I’ll catch up,” he stated to the younger Serpent. Sweet Pea looked at him quizzically but then nodded, following the rest of his friends upstairs.

Veronica stared at the older man, unsure as to what he wanted with her.

“Listen, Miss Lodge,” he started.

“Please, Hog Eye,” she said, rolling her eyes and giggling, “it’s Veronica.”

“Veronica,” he started, apprehension in his voice.

“I don’t mean to sound forward, but I know how much you spent on the Wyrm when you bought it from me. I didn't give you a steal. At the time, I didn’t know anything about you; I just was willing to sell to whoever fronted the most cash. Had I known that you would do all this for us, give us jobs, money, a purpose, I wouldn’t have tried to swindle you out of so much cash.”

Veronica was curious as to where he was going with this conversation, but remained patient and listened nonetheless.

“And I know you’ve been spending a ton on us, hiring us. You aren’t paying us minimum wage, and I know you don’t need fifteen waiters on staff for a tiny old diner, no offence. You’ve breathed life back into the Serpents, been good to FP. He’s walking around like he has a purpose for the first time since Gladys skipped town with his daughter. And now you’re dealing with this, and, I promise I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but how long are you gonna be able to keep this up? You must be bleeding cash.”

Veronica’s first thought was to be angry with the man. Her father always taught her to never speak about money with other people; it was tacky and gauche. But she quickly altered her train of thought. Her father’s lessons were not always good ways to live your life, as she unfortunately discovered, and Hog Eye didn’t seem to be prying for no reason. He acted as if he were concerned.

“I’ll be fine, Hog Eye. Thank you for your concern, but I’ll manage this,” she stated, knowing that she was lying. He was right; she was bleeding cash. She had to spend over half her fortune purchasing the Wyrm from the older Serpent, making him a wealthy man. She knew it wasn’t a fair trade, but she had to get some leverage against her father. She would have spent her entire fortune on the Wyrm if it had came to that. And she was spending a ton on labor, but it was her way of gaining penance for all the wrongs her father had done.

Hog Eye smiled sheepishly.

“That may be true, Miss Lo…, Veronica, but let me help with this. I’m doing pretty well now, with your purchase of the Wyrm, and I’ve been doing my best to help house the Serpents, give back to the community, and I know you aren’t a Serpent, but you’ve done enough to help us. You’re a part of us now, and I want to help.”

Veronica was floored. She searched for some sort of deceit or treachery in his voice and in his eyes but only found sincerity. She was so used to making deals, trades, always trying to gain the upper hand. No one did things without expecting something in return; favors were meant to be repaid, or so she thought. 

But since moving to Riverdale, she had slowly been discovering that wasn’t always the case. People here were good. Misguided, sure, but truly and essentially good. And working with FP and his crew opened her eyes even more. They did things because they cared, not because they wanted something back, but because they took care of their own. There were exceptions of course, her father, Penny Peabody, Penelope Blossom all coming to the front of her mind, but overall, she was learning that people could be kind.

“Hog Eye, you know I can’t ask that of you,” she finally said.

“You weren’t asking. I offered. I’m not saying I can give you a lot; I’m still trying to help out with housing. But let me at least cover whatever it costs to get the bar back to where it was before the water damage.”

She looked at him, blinking a few times, thoughts racing on what to do. Finally, she decided to accept his offer. She had been trying to do things on her own this whole time, and look at where she was now. Things were falling apart. And Hog Eye seemed genuine. She knew deep down she could trust the man.

“Are you sure?” she asked, once more waiting for him to change his mind, or state what he expected in return.

“I’m sure. Listen, if it makes you more comfortable, then you can consider it an indefinite loan. Just pay me back whenever you can, once the bar’s up and running and you’re turning a profit.”

Veronica relaxed her shoulders, not realizing how tense she was. She admitted to herself that she was relieved. She had been worried about the cost, not expressing those worries out loud, but worried nonetheless. This would help her out tremendously, and, like he said, she would pay him back.

“Thank you, Hog Eye. I mean it. I don’t think I’m as deserving of your acceptance as you believe me to be, but I’m going to continue to try. And I can assure you that I will pay you back as soon as possible.”

Hog Eye nodded, feeling the conversation was complete, and reached out his hand. Veronica shook it and nodded back. The older man left and Veronica went to take a seat on the stage. She sat there for a couple of minutes before hearing footsteps on the stairs. She looked over to see Sweet Pea leaning against the wall smirking at her. She raised her eyebrows, silently asking him what he was doing there. He spoke.

“There’s other things you can do for money, you know, suggestively wiggling his brows and winking.

Veronica rolled her eyes, pushing herself off the bench and walking over to the bar, picking up a bottle of liquor brought over by Hog Eye when he moved his stock from the Wyrm. She started to pour herself a drink, lifting up a glass to him as a question if he wanted one as well. He nodded, and she began filling one up for him with the cheap dark liquor.

“I should have known one of you was lurking in the shadows. Tell me, is one of your Serpent ‘rules’ to be in places you aren’t wanted? You all seem to be shockingly good at it,” she quipped, taking a swig of her drink and then walking over to her guest, shoving the glass into his hands. He chuckled.

“Drinking with a Serpent? What would your boyfriend think?” Sweet Pea asked jokingly.

“Wouldn’t know,” she said, taking another large sip. “I guess I’d have to have a boyfriend to care.”

Sweet Pea’s eyes opened wider, his smirk turning into a full-blown smile.

“Finally got tired of redheaded boy-wonder? Decided you needed a real man to blow your world?”

Veronica smiled sultrily through her lashes. She walked up to him, placing a hand on his chest and running it down suggestively, stopping right before his belt.

“In fact, I do,” she stated, coyly smiling and biting her lip.

“So please let me know if you find one,” she deadpanned, pushing him backward. His drink sloshed, getting a little on the floor, not that it mattered. He laughed. It was a full, hardy laugh, his deep voice rumbling in his throat.

“There she is,” he said, pointing at her. “I was beginning to think you got replaced by some hormonal teenage girl. Missed your fire, Lodge.”

She winked at him.

“Oh, I’m still hormonal, just not the weeping type of hormones,” she said, deciding to fight fire with fire and entertain Sweet Pea’s flirting. Nothing was holding her back anymore. No Archie to worry about, she thought bitterly, but then mentally slapped herself for thinking of her former flame.

Sweet Pea’s eyes widened even more, if that was possible. Whatever he had been expecting staying behind in the basement, eavesdropping on her and Hog Eye’s conversation, it wasn’t this. He enjoyed the banter with Veronica, but never expected her to reciprocate his more base and vulgar conversations. He made up his mind to push her further, see how far she would be willing to go before backing down.

“So about those things you could be doing for extra money…” he asked, walking up to the petite beauty and looming over her.

She shoved her finger against his chest and started circling him, dragging her finger across his body as she walked.

“Sweet Pea, be realistic. You don’t have enough money to experience my...,” she paused, making her way back to the front of him, and then looked him up and down lecherously. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to finish.

“...services,” she finished. She started walking away from him, back toward the bar to refill her drink and making a point to sway her hips more dramatically than normal. Before she could get too far, though, she felt a large hand wrap around her waist and she was quickly pulled back to a solid, warm body.

Sweet Pea leaned down, pulling her hair to the side and speaking low into her ear. She could feel the alcohol already starting to rush through her, but there was something else, too. Something deep in her abdomen that she hadn’t got to fully appreciate the past two months.

“I’m sure there are other ways I could pay you,” he said gruffly, his voice deepening, saturated with lust. He took the hand wrapped around her waist and moved it lower, stopping mere millimeters above her sex.

She spun around quickly, her sudden movement knocking Sweet Pea’s glass out of his hand where it shattered on the floor. Neither seemed to notice as they stared intently into each other’s eyes, both daring the other to make the first move.

When it finally happened, it happened fast. Neither knew who broke first, just that they both had been tiptoeing around each other the past two weeks. Their mouths crashed together painfully. It wasn’t a loving kiss, perhaps not even a good one, but it was filled with fire, both fighting the other for dominance.

Veronica thought about breaking the kiss, a part of her feeling like she was betraying Archie. But he broke up with her, she had to remind herself. She was a free woman, and she was tired of denying herself. She had been doing it for too long. Accepting Hog Eye’s offer earlier was the first step to her allowing herself to give in, to be happy, to feel like she deserved things after convincing herself for so long that she wasn’t worthy.

And it wasn’t as if she was in love with Sweet Pea. They both knew this was just for fun, neither seeking a relationship out of their encounters. But she had so much pent up tension, and she needed release. Sweet Pea was offering, so who was she to deny the man?

Before she had time to know what was happening, Sweet Pea turned her around, picking her up by the waist and crushing her against the wall. He hoisted her up by her ass, and she got the message, hooking her legs around his waist and squeezing. His mouth left hers and started making its way down her neck. She moaned appreciatively.

“So how,” she started to say between gasps, “are you planning on paying me?”

He chuckled against her neck, the vibrations of his laugh making their way their way down her throat and settling lower. Sweet Pea braced her harder against the wall, pinning her with his hips as he started unbuttoning her blouse.

“I’m sure we can come up with some sort of arrangement,” he responded breathlessly, slipping her shirt off her shoulders and pulling her forward by her hips so she could slip it off her body. He stopped his motions on her neck for a moment to look at her appraisingly. She didn’t have the largest chest he’d ever seen, but they were perky and tanned and covered by a bra he was sure cost more than his entire outfit.

“Goddamn,” was all he said, his mind able to come up with anything more eloquent given the scene in front of him.

She smirked back up at him, reveling in his appreciative glare.

“Well you aren’t going to pay me back by just standing there,” she teased.

With that, he pulled her body against his, their mouths coming together once again, and carried her over to the stage where he ungracefully dropped her down. He gathered the hem of her skirt, bunching it up against her waist but struggling. Her ass looked good in the tight pencil skirts, but it didn’t make for easy entry. He finally scooted it all the way up and then quickly grabbed a chair, pulling it in front of the stage and setting on it.

“Goddamn,” he reiterated, louder this time. She chuckled.

“What is it?” she asked, faux-innocence lacing her teasing voice, very well knowing the answer.

“You go commando often, Princess?” he asked, eyes focused on her center, licking his lips distractedly.

She laughed.

“Well, Sweet Pea, my panties just got so wet from the pipe bursting earlier. And I didn’t bring a change of underwear,” she said, batting her lashes.

At that, the handsome boy groaned, throwing his head back before grabbing her thighs and spreading them, and scooting her bottom to the edge of the stage.

“Still had this,” he asked, pointing to the article around her waist, “packed and ready to go, though?”

“It’s called a garter belt, and, of course. How else would I hold up my thigh highs?” she chuckled at his face, full of wonder and lust.

He rubbed a palm up and down her calves which were covered by the aforementioned thigh-high hose.

“What?” she asked. “No accessories adorning the girls on the Southside?” she teased.

He rolled his eyes at her, determined to stop her teasing conversation. She glared at him, again daring him to make the next move. Which he did.

The moment his tongue hit her clit, all thoughts of wordy foreplay left her mind. All she could focus on was the pleasure he was bringing to her. He must do this often, she thought, because there was no denying the boy knew what he was doing.

He sucked her clit gently, humming and basking in the glory that was Veronica Lodge’s pussy. She was already so wet for him, not having any form of physical pleasure in so long, at least by Veronica standards, and he could tell. He continued sucking, occasionally breaking to give her a long lick up the entirety of her folds.

When he added a finger and started pumping inside of her, Veronica lost it. She had never come this fast, at least not without the help of her vibrator. Her orgasm hit her like a truck, making her vision turn dark and warming her entire body, starting in her abdomen and spreading up and down, curling her toes. 

Sweet Pea quickly got up and started unbuttoning his pants. He began to reach for a condom before she grabbed his hand, stopping him.

“Birth control,” she stated, dismissing the need for him to wrap it up and encouraging him to go without any restrictions.

He groaned. She had a way of making him forget how to speak in full sentences.

“I’m convinced you do this on purpose,” he said, standing on the edge of the stage and throwing her legs over his shoulders. It was fortunate for both of them that he was so tall; it allowed for new and interesting positions.

Before she could respond, he thrust into her. He had no problems sliding into her easily, her pussy still soaking, ready for his length.

The both grunted, relieved at the feeling of tension that had been plaguing both of them with their flirty encounters melting away. He thrusted deeply, his long cock hitting the deepest parts of her. Maybe there is a correlation between height and size, she started to think, but was quickly pulled from her thoughts as Sweet Pea leaned forward, shoved her bra cups down, and took a nipple in his mouth, sucking hard.

Veronica was silently praising Cheryl for forcing the Vixens to stretch constantly, as Sweet Pea was currently testing her flexibility to its limits. Her legs were still thrown over his shoulders, and with him leaning down, she was nearly folded in half. She didn’t mind, though. It only allowed him to go deeper.

Veronica was impressed; she wouldn’t last much longer. With Archie, the sex had been good, but it was predictable. Not boring, but she always dominated. There was something about Sweet Pea’s body looming over hers, using her body and asserting such power. It was a nice change from the fairly vanilla lovemaking she had grown accustomed to with Archie.

Sweet Pea released her nipple with a pop, the sensation making her moan. He straightened back up and renewed his thrusts. He took both nipples in between his thumb and pointer finger, rolling them, in turn making Veronica’s eyes roll up into the back of her head. He released one but kept the ministrations up on one nipple, moving his other hand down to her center and rubbing his thumb furiously over her clit.

She only lasted seconds, maybe less than that. Everything was too much. She came for the second time, this time her body shuddering strongly before she fell limp. Sweet Pea only lasted a few more thrusts before pulling out and coming on her stomach. She looked up at him indignantly.

“I said I was on birth control! Clean that up!” she demanded, pointing down to her stomach. But she wasn’t angry. He made her feel too good to be angry at him.

Sweet Pea picked up his shirt, which he had somehow managed to discard during their encounter, and wiped his semen from her body, intentionally rubbing his palm against her still-erect nipples in the process. She moaned again.

“You’re insatiable,” she stated. Pushing herself up on her elbows and looking up at him. He smirked back at her.

“Me? I only came once, Princess,” he stated, smiling at her.

She rolled her eyes, something she had been doing quite a bit recently, but he had that effect on her. She scooted off the stage, walking toward her discarded blouse and smacking her partner’s ass in the process.

Once she was dressed she swiveled around and leaned against the wall, mirroring Sweet Pea’s stance from before their encounter.

“Give me a ride?” she asked.

“Again?” he responded, eyes shooting up in mock surprise.

“Ha-ha,” she said, sarcastically. “No, you oaf, to Cheryl’s. I ran here this morning and for some reason feel too drained to walk back.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Sweet Pea winked at her.

“We’ll have to take FP’s bike. He left it here for me and road back in the truck with the others. No helmets, though,” he added.

“We’ll be fine. Just drive safe. You’ll be carrying precious cargo.”

“Anything for you, Princess,” he winked, tucking his arm into hers and walking up the stairs.

When Veronica arrived back at Cheryl’s, she bid Sweet Pea goodnight and made her way to her bedroom. She washed her face and changed into her nightgown, trying to remain quiet so as to not wake Fangs, who was already fast asleep on the pullout.

Despite the unfortunate events that took place today, Veronica felt okay. Better than okay. She felt like, for the first time in two months, she was starting to recover from the events of the spring. She had people now, people who genuinely cared about her, people she could rely on without expecting to have to return the favor later on. She smiled as she fell asleep. Things would turn out alright, she knew.


	12. Fall from Eden

The floral wallpaper was mocking them, Jughead thought, as his eyes drifted across the bedroom. Betty’s bedroom was remnants of a past life, before Jason’s murder, before the Black Hood, before Hiram Lodge. The pink drapes, pictures of Archie, Betty and himself smiling back at him, not knowing the dark lives the would soon be facing, the girlish lights and the juvenile posters all screaming of a time before their innocence was lost.

“Juggy, look at me,” Betty demanded softly, her ever-present concern lacing her tone.

Jughead looked back at Betty and again was reminded of their fall from Eden. She looked so much older, wiser than just sixteen years. Which was understandable considering what she had gone through. First everything with her sister, being shipped off while pregnant, no communication about it from her parents. Then solving Jason’s murder and finding out that she, too, was a Blossom, her niece and nephew the result of a tryst gone wrong. When things appeared to be looking up, the Black Hood attacks happened, followed by the killer’s sick obsession with the blonde-haired beauty. Finding her brother only to realize that he was no brother of hers, but instead an imposter and a killer, negating any chance she ever had at knowing her real brother. Then, finally, realizing that the killer who had been tormenting the town and her personally was really her father in a mask, crazed by the darkness of his past.

But before Betty had time to heal, to confront her own demons, a new darkness was settling in the Cooper household. Polly came back, and this time she brought friends. They had yet to do anything that merited real concern, but there was a sinister air that followed the Evernevers. Edgar and his daughter Evelyn had moved into the vacant house to the right of the Coopers. On the surface, the two were the ideal father-daughter duo. Evelyn, with her pale blonde hair was the picture of beauty and grace. She quickly became known by the teens as her charming personality gained her quick popularity with Riverdale students. Her father, a tall imposing man with salt and pepper hair, was just as popular, especially with the mothers in the town. They were attracted to his charming smile, his charismatic personality, and his attractive physical features. The fact that he was a single dad only strengthened their infatuation with the man.

But, as was the case with everyone in the town with pep, something dark and sinister was lurking underneath the surface. The minute the two came to town, Alice Cooper was pulled from her deranged and desolate state and suddenly reverted back to the perfect Stepford wife, sans husband. Jughead tried to talk to Betty about it multiple times, but every time he brought it up, she quickly shut him down.

Which led him to this current conversation, another attempt to try and pry open the doors of Betty Cooper’s mind.

“Hmm?” he murmured, then snapped back into the present.

“Sorry, Betty. I just feel like you should talk to someone. I want to be here for you and can be a shoulder to lean on, but if you don’t want to talk to me, then at least talk to someone.”

They had been going in circles for the past hour, Jughead trying to convince Betty to seek help and Betty quickly shutting her boyfriend down. It wasn’t that he thought Betty was in any danger, but he was concerned for her. Too long had she bottled things inside of her, which led her to act out, whether it was the crescent-shaped scars on her palms or Dark Betty reaping havoc, she needed an outlet. And that was before she found out her dad was a psychopathic serial killer who had murdered one of her classmates in cold blood. She used to confide in him, but she was slowly reverting to the Betty he knew before, the one who tried to maintain a perfect, infallible image. It was unsettling, watching this happen before his eyes and being helpless to fix it.

“Jughead, please. I’m dealing with this in my own way. If I need to talk to someone, you’ll be the first to know, but for right now I just need to handle this on my own.”

Frustration was starting to creep into her words, a stark contrast from the matronly tone she had been using up to this point. Jughead groaned in irritation.

“You can’t be fine! After everything that’s happened? And you won’t open up to me! You’re shutting me out,” he huffed, annoyed but more than anything concerned.

“Jug, stop! You can’t fix me. I’m not some project for you to solve! Isn’t that what you said to me that day outside of the Wyrm? So why won’t you take your own words at face value and listen?”

He threw his head back in frustration. He was annoyed that she turned his own words against him.

“Yes, that’s true, but I was wrong! I should have let you in and I didn’t, but if I had, I would have saved us both a ton of heartache and grief.”

Betty softened at that, a solemn smiling hinting at the corners of her lips.

“I know you mean well, but I really need to do this for myself, with my family. I know mom seems like she’s recovered, but it’s all an act. She couldn’t have possibly gotten over the fact that her husband was a murderer and her son was dead in less than two months. I need to be there for her, and I’m not intentionally leaving you out or shutting you down. I just… I have new priorities.”

Jughead ran a hand through his hair, trying to remain composed.

“What are you saying, Betts?” he asked, hoping that she wasn’t about to say what he thought she was.

“I just think we should…” but he cut her off, realizing he didn’t want to hear the end of that thought.

“Are you breaking up with me?” he asked, a sharp edge to his tone.

“No! God, of course not! But we both have so much going on right now and we don’t need to try and force this,” she said, pointing back and forth between the two of them, “to happen. We’ll be fine, I’m sure of it. But we can’t be the Dynamic Duo forever, solving crimes and putting away bad guys. Relationships change, but that doesn’t mean it’s over. Just… different.”

Jughead nodded, knowing that she was right but hating it all the same.

“And besides,” she continued, “you have a gang to run. I know you’re busy, and I wouldn’t expect you to take time away from your own responsibilities.”

Before Jughead could respond, his phone rang. It was Fangs.

“Hang on, I need to take this,” he said, flashing her an apologetic glance. She nodded in response.

“Fangs? What? Is everyone okay? Stay put, I’m on my way.”

Betty’s brows furrowed together.

“Serpent stuff?” she asked, a look of ‘I told you so’ gracing her features.

He nodded, scooting off her bed and starting to gather his things.

“Yeah, it’s an emergency or I wouldn’t go. I’m sorry,” he stated while glancing around the room one last time to ensure he got everything.

“It’s fine. Like I said, we both have a lot going on,” she responded, also standing up and walking over to him, pulling him in for a chaste peck on the lips.

“I love you, Betty,” he said, lingering close before leaving, hearing her respond affirmations of affections over his shoulder.

 

*****

 

Veronica walked down the steps of the basement, assessing the progress being made in the area. It was crowded with people, but she could see the work that had been done so far.

Fangs, FP, Sweet Pea, Hog Eye, Hog Eye’s cousin, and several other Serpents with whom she wasn’t familiar were all working diligently on the future speakeasy. They had completely replaced the flooring and decided to go with concrete instead, giving the bar a more industrial look. The concrete, FP explained to her, was more practical. Yes, it cost a little more to pour and stain a deep burgundy color, but it was more durable, able to withstand spilt drinks and, most importantly, any potential water damage.

She wasn’t convinced at first, but he suggested laying rugs out to give it a more cozy feeling, rugs that could easily be replaced if necessary. That did the trick, and Veronica signed off on the new flooring idea.

Currently, FP, Sweet Pea, and Hog Eye were gathered around the bar area. They had almost finished rebuilding it. All that was left, she assumed, was staining the wood and putting on the cabinet drawers and countertop. Fangs was working on the light fixtures being hung above the stage, Veronica finally selecting some that fit her imagined theme. She, Cheryl, and Toni had drove to Greendale to the depot. Veronica had also finished cleaning the ceiling and was in love with the results. She could finally see everything coming together. The walls, ceiling, and stage were complete, with only a day or two left to finish up the bar and light fixtures. After that, all that would be left was purely cosmetic tasks: vintage posters to hang upon the walls, lounge seating and tables, drapes to cover up the small windows peeking out near the ceiling.

The past week had been hell, for sure. Veronica was certain it was the most manual labor she had ever completed in her life. But here the were, nearly two weeks out from being able to open to the public. All that was left was acquiring the proper permits, setting up the furniture, and selecting her staff.

Veronica smiled. None of this would have been possible without FP and his friends. She had a new appreciation for the Serpents after seeing them rally, all in an effort to help her of all people. She finished walking down the steps, clearing her throat to gain the attention of all the men at work. They stopped what they were doing and looked at her, some wiping sweat off their brows, others taking a break and grabbing a sip of water.

“Well, boys, it’s looking great! As a treat, I got Pop to cook up burgers and fries for everyone, on the house, of course. And milkshakes made personally by moi,” she said, curtsying to them and motioning for them to follow her up to the dining room. She had a small announcement to make and was excited to hear their reactions.

After several minutes of clamoring, everyone was seated in a couple of booths in the back corner of the diner. Veronica and Pop brought out their food and the men quickly made haste on eating, all famished from their hard work. Veronica took a seat on a stool at the bar and turned to face them.

“I didn’t just call you up here to feed you. I have some announcements to make,” she stated with a flourish.

They all looked up at her expectantly but continued to eat.

“So, as you know, I opened the speakeasy with the plan of making FP the manager, but I hadn’t given much thought to other staff. If it would please you, Hog Eye, I’d like to offer you the position of head bartender. I know you have experience from the Wyrm, I could benefit from having your knowledge of all bar-related things when we open. If you would like, of course,” she added for good measure.

Hog Eye gulped down the last bite of his burger, licking off his fingers and looking at her.

“Oh, I’d like it, I’d like it a lot. But you sure you want the likes of me serving up drinks? I may scare off the customers,” he chuckled.

“Of course, Hog Eye! If they could so easily be scared off by a giant softy like you, they have no place in my bar. Our bar. Which is the perfect segway into my next announcement. As some of you may know, I bought Pop’s with the intent of creating a safe space for all of Riverdale. All will be welcome here, North or Southsider. I wanted a refuge from all the anger and animosity that has been plaguing dear Riverdale, a place where everyone could feel at home. Which is why I have decided to name our speakeasy…. The Haven!” 

She clapped her hands together, getting happy smiles from the Serpents. In her reverie, she failed to notice the door chiming, signaling a new customer. A new customer who sauntered over to interrupt the gathering.

“Well, well. The whole gang’s here!” Malachi stated, flanked by three of his cronies. The Serpents all shot up out of their seats, several shifting their hands into their pockets, ready to grab their blades at a moment’s notice.

“No need for that,” Malachi said smoothly, patting his hands down into the air, motioning for the rival gang members to sit.

“After all, the lady just said all are welcome,” he ended with a smirk, motioning over with his hands to Veronica and nodding towards her.

She gathered herself at full height, her shoulders bristling. Before she could address him, Sweet Pea walked forward, shoving Veronica behind him. She indignantly stomped on his foot, moving him out of the way and standing between him and Malachi.

“Not now, Sweet Pea! I’ve got this,” she seethed through her teeth. Malachi laughed.

“Down, boy!” he yelled at the taller man, his three compatriots making barking sounds, mocking him.

Sweet Pea started to move forward again but was stopped by Veronica’s hand on his chest.

“Sweet Pea, no! There are customers here. Not now.”

He seemed angry but nodded his head, not taking his eyes off the Ghoulie leader. Veronica swiveled around to face Malachi, pulling her shoulders back and lifting her chin up, not showing any fear, only unwavering strength.

“Malachi, is it?” she asked him, and he nodded, grinning from ear to ear, excited by the chaos.

“Well, Malachi, why don’t you and I take a walk? Outside. No need for any quarrelling. I assume your… friends can stay outside and not manage to cause any trouble?” she asked, taking on the tone of a politician, diplomatic and welcoming.

FP walked forward at that, grabbing Veronica by the arm and pulling her towards him. She glared at him.

“You can’t go out there with him, Veronica. You don’t know him like we do,” he said, loud enough for the others to hear.

Veronica smiled up sweetly at the older man, both appreciative of his protective nature but also annoyed. She gave him a glance, trying to convey that she had a plan, but she wasn’t sure he got the message. She instead turned toward Malachi, pulling her arm out of FP’s grasp and walking over to the crazed Ghoulie leader.

“Now, now, FP. I’ll be fine. Malachi, I’ll be fine, won’t I? You aren’t going to hurt me, are you?”

It may have been a question but she stated it as fact, not allowing any room for discussion. He grinned, extending his elbow and motioning for her to loop her arm through his. She mentally hesitated, but knew outwardly she needed to show no signs of weakness. She quickly hooked her arm through his and walked them confidently through the doors.

Once outside, she looked up at Malachi and nodded to his three cronies.

“They’ll stay here. You and I need to have a private conversation,” she stated.

He turned towards the three others, pointing to the old Camaro and motioning for them to get in.

“You heard the lady. She wants to be alone with me,” he winked at them, a salacious sneer contorting his features. Veronica wanted to roll her eyes, but she heard her father’s voice in the back of her head, reminding her to stay composed, keep the upper hand. So instead of glaring at him, she smiled warmly.

“There’s a wonderful walking trail next to the train tracks. Beautiful scenery. Shall we?” she asked, and he held out his hand, letting it fall forward.

“You lead the way,” he said, his eyes leering at the petite girl next to him.

The two headed toward the trail. To an outsider, it would appear to be an intimate couple, taking a nice stroll on a pleasant summer day. 

“So, Malachi, tell me, what brought you to Pop’s?” she asked sweetly, genuinely curious as to his plans.

“Well, darling, our meeting was unexpectedly and unfortunately cut short last time. I wouldn’t dare leave you hanging without finishing our earlier conversation.”

“Yes, about that. You know, Malachi, I didn’t appreciate the broken window, which I’m sure was an accident. Or the artwork. Don’t get me wrong, I am a big fan of street art, but I am trying to portray a more wholesome image at my establishment.”

“Is that why you’ve been hanging around what’s left of the Serpents? To protect your pure and wholesome image?” he asked, raising his eyebrows up, expecting a snarky response. Veronica paused, halting their walk.

“There’s something you need to know about me, Malachi. My loyalties lie first and foremost with Veronica Lodge. The Serpents are nothing more than hired help. A means to an end,” she stated, hoping to appease the man while also distancing herself from the gang. She didn’t believe her own words, but he didn’t need to know that.

Malachi smiled. His smile was a disgusting one; it filled her with discomfort and made her feel as if she was naked.

“So, if I were to come back to your… establishment… once it was open and ready for business, I wouldn’t see any Serpents hanging around?”

“Like I said, they’re hired help. I may keep a few on my payroll, but I can assure you my loyalties belong to me, and me alone,” she finished, sticking her nose in the air trying to convey confidence.

Malachi chuckled, but it wasn’t warm. It was a cold chuckle, and it added to her growing nerves caused by the unwelcome intruder.

“You’re just like him, you know.”

She looked up at him quizzically, puzzled by his statement.

“Like who?” she asked.

“Your father,” he stated simply, and then resumed walking, the two strolling at an easy pace down the trail next to the train tracks.

She wanted to argue with him, to tell him that she was nothing like her father. Hiram Lodge was cold and calculating, manipulative and power-hungry. Every move he made, every word he said was a play, and the people around him were his actors.

But she couldn’t lie to herself. Yes, she was different from her father, but the conversation she was having right now was Hiram 101. Stay calm, he would tell her. Maintain poise and diplomacy and you’ll always have the upper hand.

So instead of arguing with the boy, instead of telling him he was wrong, she smiled.

“How do you know my father?” she asked, feigning innocence while being hyper aware of the fact that her current partner was on her father’s payroll.

“We’ll call him… a business associate. That’s what the rich and powerful would say, is it not?” he asked.

She only nodded back at him, trying to think of how to steer the conversation to her benefit.

“So, back to my first question. What brought you to Pop’s today?” 

Malachi looked her up and down, assessing her for any signs of weakness. He could find none, so he continued.

“You seem smart, Miss Lodge. Educated at the finest schools New York had to offer, no doubt.”

She was startled that he knew anything about her, but it must have been his connection to her father that provided him with details of her life pre-Riverdale. He continued.

“So I’m sure you’ve heard of racketeering. Big issue in the glory days of organized crime, prohibition era,” he explained, an almost longing look in his eyes. He would dream of the heyday of gang life, she thought peevishly.

“Yes, I know what it is. Go on,” she stated irritably.

“Well then you know all about the dangers that business owners face. Fires, thefts, damaged pipes,” he finished pointedly.

She inhaled deeply, caught off guard by his last statement and trying to think quickly. It was the Ghoulies! How they managed to sneak into the basement without anyone knowing was beyond her. She had just assumed the damaged pipe was an accident, albeit an unfortunate one. Realizing that it was caused by man next to her made her blood boil with anger. Her heart was racing, real fear creeping into her for the first time since seeing the Ghoulies the first time at Pop’s. She couldn’t think of how to respond, but luckily Malachi wasn’t finished, continuing his earlier train of thought.

“It would be a shame if something happened to your pet project. I’m concerned for you, and am coming to you out of the kindness of my heart to offer you our protection, for a small price of course.”

She nodded slowly, considering her next move. Finally, she decided to drop the sweet act.

“How much is he paying you?” she asked bluntly.

“Whatever do you mean?” Malachi asked, innocently pressing his hand to his chest.

“You very well know what I mean. My father. I know you’re on his payroll. Tell me, Malachi, how much is he paying you to wreak havoc on Riverdale?”

Malachi’s faux-kind attitude immediately dissipated, his smile replaced with a sneer. He didn’t answer.

“Tell me how much he’s paying you and I’ll offer more,” she demanded.

Malachi paused, seemingly weighing his options, and then looked at her.

“$50,000 plus a cut of the profits of drug running on the Southside.”

Veronica stopped walking, placing her finger to her forehead, lost in thought.

“I’ll double it. $100,000 and you continue to profit from the drugs,” she stated.

“Tell me, Veronica, why would your father continue running the drugs through us if he knows we’re working for you?” he countered.

“Because, dear Malachi,” she said, patting him on the shoulder, “my father isn’t going to know. You continue to make money off him, but whenever he tells you to make a move, something goes wrong. The cops show up, or someone got hurt and can’t come out and play. I don’t care, just tell him whatever. But you’ll leave Pop’s alone. You stay on your side of the tracks.”

Malachi nodded, considering her offer, but then she added another stipulation.

“And you leave the Serpents alone. You guys live in peace, continue to make money, get paid from both me and my father, and no one gets hurt. It’s a win-win. You’d be a fool to turn me down.”

“And what stops me from going to Hiram and telling him about our little deal? Get him to up the ante to outbid you?” he asked, trying to milk her for more money.

“I know my father, and he will not negotiate with the likes of you. If you try to out-maneuver him, he will have you arrested on drug charges and will simply move on to the next group of people willing to go along with his plan without argument,” she stated, hoping he would buy her bluff.

“Next week. You get me the money next week and then we can make this deal official,” he stated.

She thought about it. She knew she couldn’t afford the $100,000. Yes, she still had it in her duffle bag in the basement of Pop’s, but she needed every penny to complete The Haven and pay her staff until they started making a profit. But she had a plan.

“How’s next Friday? I can meet you here. We can’t go to a public place and I can’t show up in the Southside and risk my father catching onto our plan.”

Malachi nodded, extending a hand to Veronica. She took it and they shook.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Lodge,” he stated.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” she responded.

They walked back to Pop’s in silence, her mind churning, trying to put together the intricacies of her plan. No, she wouldn’t be able to pay the $100,000, but she knew someone who could.

Finally, they arrived back at Pop’s. Sweet Pea, Fangs, Hog Eye, and FP were waiting near the entrance, ready to jump into action if necessary. Jughead, she was surprised to see, was waiting with them. One of the Serpents must have called him as she and Malachi were on their walk. The other Serpents were hanging near the side of the diner, their eyes trained on the Ghoulies piled into Malachi’s car.

Upon seeing the duo, the Serpents started forward, but were stopped as Veronica raised a hand, indicating that they should stay put.

“No need for theatrics, boys. Malachi here was just leaving, weren’t you?” she asked, batting her eyelashes up at the Ghoulie, praying that she could remain cool for just a few more minutes, her composure threatening to break at any moment.

“I was,” he stated, and started to leave before pausing and turning back to Veronica.

“A hug goodbye? As friends do?” he asked, chaos igniting a flame in his eyes. The four Serpents at the entrance visibly tensed, Sweet Pea in particular balling his hand into a fist but thankfully remaining still.

Veronica gave him a strained smile.

“Of course,” she said in a clipped tone, “as friends do.”

She walked up to him, his limbs extended, as she slipped her arms around his waist, doing her best not to touch him too much. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in closely. He moved his mouth next to her ear.

“Thanks for the talk, Veronica. I thoroughly enjoyed it. I must say, though, you were prettier with the pearls.”

Veronica stiffened, but didn’t try to pull away. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Malachi released her, walking towards the car and getting in. As they pulled out of the parking lot, he blew her a kiss and winked. She smiled, not daring to relax until he was completely out of sight.

Once there was no more sign of the gold Camaro, Veronica let out a breath she had been holding for the past half hour and relaxed her shoulders, placing her pointer finger on her head, a headache starting to form.

Sweet Pea, Fangs, Hog Eye, FP, and Jughead rushed over to her, all clamoring to speak first.

“What did he say?”

“Did he hurt you?”

“Why would you go out there alone?”

“What did he want?”

But the only person she heard was the newcomer to the group.

“What the fuck, Veronica? Why did you do that? You saw what he did to me!”

She sent him an exasperated sideways glance. She knew they would be angry, but she was drained after her conversation with Malachi, all of her energy spent on attempting to maintain poise and power.

“I’m going to stop all of you right there. I’m fine. Malachi’s staying away. I have a plan and we’ll go over it soon, but first, I need a drink. Lots of drinks. All the drinks. Someone take me to Cheryl’s.”

Jughead tried to argue with her but FP placed a hand on his shoulder, nodding at him to stop. This was a battle his son would not win, and they could discuss her talk with the twisted Ghoulie later. He saw the look in Veronica’s eyes and knew that she couldn’t handle being berated by his son. So instead, he turned to Veronica and offered her a ride in his pickup.

The ride back to Cheryl’s was tense, everyone on edge from the Ghoulie meeting, but no one said anything. Veronica’s mind was blank, no more energy left for mental exertion. She would get her strength back with the help of a dark bottle of liquor. When they arrived at the barn on Thornhill property, FP called a meeting of the Serpents as Veronica poured herself a large helping of some hooch made personally by Byrdie. It tasted awful, like pure rubbing alcohol, but it was sure to get her drunk, and fast.

Today had been exhausting, but she had a plan. Now it was just a matter of getting the Serpents to help execute it.


	13. Shame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has been so long since I updated! I hope to not go that long again. I'd been out of town for work, and then had a ton of stuff to catch up on when I got back home. Anyway, I did not proof this at all because I was so eager to get another chapter out, so apologies in advance for any typos! Enjoy :)
> 
> ANDDDDDD I love the comments. PLEASE keep them coming. They drive me! (And you don't have to be a member to leave them :D)

Veronica’s eyes drooped, the alcohol rapidly deteriorating her senses. She didn’t get drunk often anymore, not since coming to Riverdale. But she had been making a point to not purchase any recreational drugs since finding out the Ghoulies were supplying them through her father. So instead, Veronica found herself at Cheryl’s, imbibing far too much liquor far too quickly.

It was okay, she thought, justifying her actions in her mind, because she had an unnaturally stressful day. Week, even. Scratch that - it had been an unnaturally stressful summer. Thinking back to her conversation with Malachi brought on the beginnings of a headache, and she knew she would inevitably dissect their conversation piece by piece in a sober state.

Which led Veronica to her current state, sitting cross-legged on the plush carpet lining the study in Thistlehouse, surrounded by a group of equally inebriated teenagers. Cheryl and Toni sat to her left, the latter sitting in front of the redhead and leaning her head against her girlfriend’s chest. Sweet Pea was on her right, their knees occasionally brushing against each other. Fangs sat on the other side of Sweet Pea, swaying back and forth and singing some annoyingly repetitive song completely off-key. So maybe they weren’t all equally drunk; Fangs seemed to have gotten a head start on them. Jughead finished off the circle, sitting in between Cheryl and Fangs.

Getting Jughead to loosen up had seemed like a losing battle at first. He was brooding and moody, still angry over Veronica’s private conversation with Malachi. Upon arriving at Thistlehouse, he had immediately began pestering Veronica for more information, which she promptly stopped by shoving a beer into his hand.

Another perk of hanging around Serpents. They were a good gang, seldom meddling in large criminal activity, but they had no qualms with supplying underage teenagers with alcohol. That, combined with Cheryl’s expensive liquors, reminiscent of those Veronica was accustomed to seeing in her mother’s cabinet, made for a substantial alcohol stash.

Fangs resumed his singing, and Sweet Pea shoved him, the smaller boy falling into Jughead’s lap causing the whole group to laugh. This is nice, Veronica thought, smiling at the scene around her. Looking around the circle, she was thankful for this group of people. She was thankful that, even if only for one night, she could feel like a teenager again, sitting around drinking and laughing, telling embarrassing stories, gossiping about classmates, enjoying their youth.

The night had progressed and the group had decided on drinking games. Cheryl had suggested spin the bottle, to which Veronica quickly shouted “No!” not wanting a repeat of her first party in Riverdale. That had caused Cheryl to blush, reminders of her more heartless times a source of embarrassment for the girl.

So instead, the group was playing ‘Never Have I Ever,’ and Veronica was up next. She was quickly trying to come up with something she knew many others would have experienced that she hadn’t. It was coming down to the wire; each member of the group had started by holding up five fingers, putting one down each time they had done something stated, and Veronica was close to losing, only two fingers remaining. Cheryl, Jughead, and Sweet Pea all had three fingers remaining, while Fangs still had four. Toni was the only person in Veronica’s boat with only two fingers left.

Finally, something came to mind.

“Never have I ever had Ramen noodles!” she exclaimed, excited about the prospect of getting closer to winning, or at least not losing.

The room groaned. Fangs, Sweet Pea, and Toni all put another finger down, while Cheryl remained with all three up.

“That’s not fair! We’re already a disadvantaged socio-economic group, and now you’re using our underprivileged upbringings against us. This is why systematic poverty continues to exist! The rich get richer!”

Cheryl, Veronica, and Toni rolled their eyes, while Sweet Pea threw a pillow from the red settee towards his friend, narrowly missing Fangs with his inebriated aim. This was at least his fifth outburst of the night. Veronica had noticed that the more Jughead had to drink, the more often he got on his soapbox.

“Okay, Forsythe, we get it. Damn. Moving on,” Toni said, waving her arm toward Sweet Pea and signalling for him to go next.

Sweet Pea looked around the room, glancing at who was closest to losing, his eyes finally settling on Toni and a Cheshire grin adorning his face.

“Well, ladies and gents, I’m about to swiftly wrap up this game,” he stated, an air of faux-superiority in his tone.

He looked directly at Toni.

“Never have I ever kissed Jughead Jones,” he said pointedly, causing the pink-haired Serpent to roll her eyes and put her final finger down.

The group all breathed a sigh of relief, ready to move on from the game, but Cheryl continued to sit, mouth agape.

“You put your finger down!” she pointed at Veronica, shock in her voice.

“What?” Veronica asked, not sure what Cheryl was getting at.

Cheryl pointed frantically between Veronica and Jughead, sputtering in a very un-Cheryllike manner.

“You and Heathcliff totally made out!” she stated accusingly, other faces in the room starting to mirror hers.

Veronica spared a quick glance over to Jughead and saw his cheeks starting to heat up.

“And? Cheryl, please. It wasn’t as if it was some passionate love affair,” Veronica said, rolling her eyes and starting to stand, ready for another drink.

Cheryl paused a few moments, her shocked face melting into one of contemplation until she nodded to herself, seemingly coming up with an answer to the question she had created in her mind.

“Well, I guess it makes sense,” she stated, glancing down and inspecting her fingernails.

At that, Veronica stopped her movements, settling back down on the floor ready to ask the girl what she meant. 

“Excuse,” she started to say, but was cut off by Jughead blurting out.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked incredulously.

Now it was Cheryl’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Oh, please. Don’t act as if it wasn’t bound to happen at some point or another. You two toe the line between being enemies and wanting to rip each other’s clothes off all the time. I never see Veronica get as worked up around Archie as she does around you. Or Betty with you for that matter,” she stated as if it were a well-known fact.

Veronica’s eyes went wide, her brows furrowing, blinking several times in a row to make sure she heard the Vixen leader correctly, trying to formulate a response to shut down that line of thought immediately, but Fangs beat her to it.

“You know, I can kind of see it too. Now that you lay it out like that,” he said, nodding his head in agreement.

Veronica grabbed the other pillow from the settee and threw it at Fangs, hitting him squarely in the face.

“As if,” she said defiantly. “It’s nothing like that. Jughead and I kissed to prove a point. And Archie and Betty were in the hot tub with us. There was certainly nothing romantic or passionate about it.”

“Oh, so you made out in a hot tub?” Sweet Pea asked, grinning and nudging her in the ribs. She swatted his arm away.

“It was nothing. It meant nothing,” Veronica stated plainly.

Cheryl stood up, clasping her hands together.

“Just foreplay!” she said cheerfully, in her saccharine tone she used so often to sew chaos and discord. With that, she clapped her hands and walked away towards the liquor cabinet. Veronica rolled her eyes once more, thinking if she didn’t stop rolling them soon she would end up going cross-eyed. But she didn’t counter the other girl, knowing any argument would only incite Cheryl’s overactive imagination even more.

Veronica got up, too, following Cheryl to the liquor cabinet and pouring herself a drink, pointedly ignoring the grin adorning her friend’s face. She knocked back her drink and poured herself another.

The night continued, the group breaking off into cliques and talking among themselves. Sweet Pea was sitting on the settee and grabbed Veronica as she was walking by, her drunken state causing her to sway on her feet. She ended up plopping down right next to Sweet Pea, who pulled her close against him. They were talking quietly, not about anything in particular.

Jughead stood up.

“Cheryl, I’m going to raid your pantry,” he declared, stumbling his way towards the door before swiveling back around, knocking over a picture frame from the accent table beside him.

“Oops,” he said, looking down at the mess he made before shrugging and looking back up at Cheryl.

“Where is your pantry?”

Cheryl’s eyes shot up.

“Jughead, you can’t seriously be hungry again. We just ate four pizzas. And you had a whole one to yourself!”

He pointed down to his stomach, rubbing it gently in circles.

“The tummy wants what the tummy wants,” he stated, nodding as if this was a normal fact of life.

They all laughed, and Cheryl directed him down the hall.

Veronica settled back into Sweet Pea’s chest, still chuckling at Jughead’s sudden declaration of hunger and amazed at his superhuman metabolism. Sweet Pea started rubbing his finger up and down Veronica’s side, giving her chills. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his which were darkened, his eyes heavy-lidded.

“What do you say we head up to your suite?” he asked enticingly.

Veronica grinned, hoping for another encounter with Sweet Pea that night, the alcohol driving her lust.

“I think that’s fine, but you do know I have a roommate, right?” she asked through heavy lashes.

Sweet Pea straightened up and looked over at Fangs.

“Oi! Fangs!” he shouted across the room.

“What?” his friend asked groggily, having settled on the sofa, on the verge of sleep.

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight. Don’t come upstairs,” he said, standing up and grabbing Veronica’s hand to help her up.

Fangs raised his hand and gave a thumbs up.

“You got it, boss,” he said, before turning over and pushing his head against the pillow.

Cheryl grinned wickedly.

“What’s this?” she asked innocently.

“Oh, nothing Cheryl,” Veronica responded sweetly, “just going to toe the line between being enemies and ripping each other’s clothes off.” 

“Veronica! You naughty girl!” Cheryl exclaimed coyly.

“What? I’m single. He’s just going to tuck me in,” she winked, as the two made their way up to Veronica’s room.

After their exit, Cheryl looked for answers at Toni who just shrugged. The two turned around to look at Fang’s sleeping body, Toni grabbing the previously discarded pillow and chucking it at her fellow Serpent.

“Hey!” he shot up, “I have just about had it with the pillow throwing! Use your words!”

“How long has that been going on?” Cheryl asked, nodding towards the door.

Fangs just shrugged, dropping his head back to the sofa and turning over, away from the two girls.

“Hell if I know. Now, please, just let me get some sleep,” he exclaimed, pulling a blanket from the top of the couch down and over his body.

The two girls giggled and started cleaning up the mess around them. Several minutes later, Jughead reappeared, a massive sandwich in his grasp. He took a bite.

“Where did everyone go?” he asked, mouth full of food.

“Ew, Jughead, did anyone teach you manners? God, don’t talk while you’re chewing,” Cheryl said, wrinkling up her nose in distaste.

Jughead just shrugged and then sat down on the settee. He tried to get settled but felt something hard underneath his legs. He sat down his sandwich on the end table and shifted to the side, reaching underneath him and finding a cell phone.

“This yours?” he asked the two girls.

“Nope,” Toni said. “It must belong to Veronica. It looks like her case.”

“Where’d she go?” he asked, looking around the room for the raven-haired girl.

Toni started to answer before Cheryl put her arm out, indicating her to stop. She looked over at Jughead with a smile on her face.

“She went upstairs to bed. You should return it to her,” she stated.

Toni looked up at her quizzically, but Cheryl just gave her girlfriend a look, hoping she would go along with it.

“Okay. I will. I need to ask her about her plans for the Ghoulies anyway. She told me she would tell me tomorrow earlier, and since it is now past midnight, it is officially tomorrow,” he said, rambling through his drunken logic.

“Great! I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. Don’t worry about knocking; she can’t hear very well over the sound of the fireplace in the guest room. Up the stairs, second door on the right!” Cheryl exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

Jughead stood up, grabbing the last of his sandwich and shoving it in his mouth before turning to his friends.

“Ladies,” he said, mouth once again full of sandwich while tipping his head and bowing before straightening himself and marching out the door.

Toni turned on Cheryl, accusation in her eyes.

“What was that?” she asked, looking into her girlfriend’s eyes for answers.

“What?” Cheryl said defensively.

Toni pointed towards the door that Jughead had just left.

“Maybe if he sees Veronica in action it will push him a little closer to her. I’ve decided I like them together. I ship it,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“Don’t you like Betty? She’s your cousin!” Toni said exasperatedly.

“It’s fine! Betty needs someone less brooding than boy-loser anyway. It’s all fun and games, no one needs to get hurt!”

“Cheryl,” Toni said warningly.

“Please, just let me have my fun! It’s harmless!”

Toni shook her head and grinned.

 

*****

 

“Did Jughead kiss you like I do?” Sweet Pea asked Veronica gruffly, pushing her against the wall and pinning her arms above her head.

“He seemed scared of me,” she answered truthfully, her breath hitching as Sweet Pea separated her legs with his knee, pressing it against her center, quickly getting her wet.

The taller man used his free hand to move Veronica’s hair to the side, latching his lips to her throat.

“Well, you’re a special kind of woman. Fierce. Powerful. That scares a lot of men. They aren’t capable of taming a lioness,” he said in between sucking and kissing on her neck, slowly moving down to her collarbone.

Veronica pulled her hands out of his grasp and pushed against him, placing her hands on his shoulders and pinning him against the wall, turning the tables on her sexual counterpart.

“Tame me?” she asked, pushing her full weight against him and tugging at the hem of his shirt, raking her fingernails over his stomach.

Sweet Pea nodded unsurely.

“Sweet Pea, my dear boy, you can’t tame me,” she stated, raking her nails aggressively down his torso before stepping back from him.

She looked at him up and down approvingly.

“Take your shirt off,” she commanded.

Sweet Pea’s eyebrows shot up but he nodded, following her orders. He stripped off his shirt, throwing it in the corner and looking back up at her questioningly.

“And your pants,” she said, nodding down toward his crotch.

He obeyed, slowly unbuttoning and then unzipping his pants, dragging them off until he was just down to his tented boxers, his arousal showing plainly through the thin fabric.

“Get on the bed,” she said, watching appreciatively at how he walked surely over to the mattress before laying on it.

Veronica quickly took off her clothes, discarding them neatly in a pile on Fangs’ pull-out sofa, before hopping up on the bed and crawling slowly up Sweet Pea’s tall body. As she reached his boxers, she grabbed them by the waistband and tugged impatiently, motioning for him to raise his hips so she could pull them the rest of the way off. Once they were both free of the obstructions of clothing, she resumed crawling up his body. She stopped as her crotch met his, rubbing her bare pussy tantalizingly over his hard cock.

“Do you feel how wet I am for you, Sweet Pea?” she asked, a daring glint in her eye.

He nodded, at a loss for words from the powerful and incredibly sexy sight in front of him. He typically liked being in control, dominating women and making them weak for him. But he wasn’t complaining about this newfound role. Veronica Lodge was a force to be reckoned with, and he enjoyed every minute of this.

Veronica leaned forward, rubbing her breasts against his chest, her hard nipples exciting him even further.

“Do you feel how excited my nipples are for you, Sweet Pea?” she asked.

He groaned.

“Get on with it!” he snapped in frustration, eager to shove his cock.

Veronica sat up suddenly, taking her nails and digging them into his pecs.

“I’m the one giving orders,” she barked.

“Now,” she continued, “tell me again how you were planning on taming me?”

She lifted herself up and positioned his member at her entrance, slowly lowering herself until just the head of his penis was enveloped by her warm folds.

“Were you planning on taking me out to dinner? Getting me off the market? Domesticating me?” she asked tauntingly, lowering herself ever so slightly.

“Putting a ring on my finger? Having me be the perfect housewife? Only able to be tamed by a man such as yourself?” she continued, raising herself up just a fraction, causing Sweet Pea to groan at the loss of entry.

He groaned, throwing his head back against the pillow, waiting for this torture to finish.

“You’re right! I’m sorry! I don’t want any of that. I just want you to fuck me. Now!” he pleaded, his earlier tone of authority transforming into whimpers.

“Good,” she stated chipperly, “because I’m not looking for another relationship. I just like the feeling of your dick inside of me.”

With that, she lowered herself onto him completely, both breathing out a sigh of relief at the pent up tension. She rode him slowly at first, each movement deliberate, until her actions started to get more erratic the closer she came to orgasm.

Neither of them noticed the door swinging open to reveal a drunken Jughead, phone in hand. Upon seeing the scene in front of him, he stumbled backward, losing his balance and nearly falling down. He steadied himself against the wall while trying to figure out how to prevent the situation from getting more awkward.

But the two still hadn’t seen him, caught up in their own lovemaking, both of their heads thrown back. Jughead knew he should look away, but he couldn’t. Instead, he made the decision, one for which he was already feeling shameful, to slowly crack the door, peering in and staring at the two.

Over the past several weeks he had seen Veronica in ways he never had before. Lost, broken, vulnerable. And this was something new, too. Still vulnerable, but, more than that, powerful. Beads of sweat had formed on her forehead and her baby hairs were sticking to her skin.

He looked down at her breasts, seeing them bounce tantalizingly up and down as she moved over Sweet Pea. Her nipples were small and dark, the brown of the areolas a stark contrast from Betty’s soft pink ones. He started to feel a tightening in his pants, and reached his hand down to readjust, but got distracted by the feeling of his hand against his hardening penis.

He knew this was wrong. He should walk away. He kept telling himself to walk away. This is what perverts did, and he was no pervert. The two lovers were not anticipating an audience, and he was wrong for giving them one. But despite the voice in the back of his head screaming at him to turn around and forget the scene in front of him, he stood glued to the spot, his hand now resting against his crotch, occasionally pressing against it to relieve some of the pressure.

Maybe it was the alcohol, clouding his judgement and overpowering his conscious. Or perhaps it was the fact that he hadn’t had sex in nearly two months, which, although new to Jughead, was something he was sorely missing. Or it could be Cheryl’s words from earlier digging their way into his ears, that he and Veronica were full of sexual tension. More than anything, though, it was the girl in front of him.

Veronica was an anomaly. How could someone look so much like the devil and so much like an angel all at once. She was everything, dark but still full of light, her face innocent but her actions experienced, her movements powerful but the scene vulnerable.

He knew she was beautiful. Anyone could see that. But Jughead was not swayed by something as trivial as appearances. He had always liked puzzles, enjoyed his brain working as he tried to figure them out, a feeling of great achievement upon finally solving them.

For so long, he had thought there was nothing more to Veronica than what was on the surface.  
But seeing her there, lost in ecstasy on top of Sweet Pea, somehow managing to pin him down which he knew was a rare feat given the other boy’s typical sexual exploits, seeing her there with no inhibitions, no act, just raw sexual power, made Jughead realize that she was the ultimate puzzle. Both a goddess and a succubus. So certain in her own worth, her own sexuality. An enchantress, her soft moans singing the songs of the heavens.

He had been rubbing his hand over his crotch without realizing it. He looked down and shame filled his vision. Is this what he had been reduced to? A weak little man getting off on the sight of his friends fucking?

He paused, again trying to convince himself to walk away from the sight in front of him. Instead, he gave in to his most base instincts, and quietly unzipped his jeans, freeing his now fully-hard cock from the confines of his pants. He started stroking it in earnest, moving it to follow the rhythm of Veronica’s body.

As she moved up and down, so did his hand. She started to speed up, her movements now unstable, and so Jughead started moving faster and faster, both nearing completion.

Veronica stopped moaning, stopped making any noise, while she stilled completely. She began rubbing her clit furiously while still on top of Sweet Pea, throwing her head back and finally releasing a long, loud “God.”

She slumped against Sweet Pea, who had apparently come at the same time. Jughead tugged frantically, only a few more pumps before he spilled out into his jeans, forcing his penis back into his boxers before semen got everywhere.

He stilled, the aftereffects of orgasm ramming like a train into his mind. What had he just done, the thought, as the realization that he had just orgasmed to someone other than his girlfriend invaded his mind. Trying to block out the torrent of emotions filling his head, he quickly but quietly zipped up his pants, slowly shutting the door before turning around and running down the stairs.

He left without saying goodbye, Veronica’s phone still in his pocket where he had put it upon finding the scene from earlier. He was too drunk to drive, he knew, but Thornhill was only a little over a mile from Sunnyside, so he started walking. His walks quickly turned into a run, and in less than ten minutes he had arrived back at his trailer. His dad was asleep on the couch, the glare from the TV lighting up the living room.

Jughead made his way to the bathroom and stripped, eager to wash away the sweat from his body. As he stepped into the shower and turned it on, he hoped the water would wash away everything, sweat, his cum, the guilt, the shame. It didn’t. He may have been physically clean, but inside he was filthy, completely full of dirt and grime and shame and anger and embarrassment.

Not bothering to get ready for bed, he plopped down on his mattress and started crying.


	14. Reluctance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter, but it's setting up the next half of the fic, so important development happening! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Again, comments and kudos are GREATLY appreciated, and you don't have to be a member to leave them! :)
> 
> Thank you to everyone that has left comments so far. You don't know just how motivating they are! I really appreciate each and every one of you taking the time out of your day to drop some words of encouragement!

Jughead was pacing. He knew his anxiety was unnerving to the others in the room, but he wanted to make sure he understood Veronica’s plan correctly.

The past thirty minutes had been occupied by Veronica telling the Serpents of her plan to take down the Ghoulies and, eventually, her father. Upon seeing her for the first time since last night, shame immediately washed over him. He continuously fought between trying to pay attention to the girl while also trying to avert his eyes from her figure.

He felt disgusting, the lowest of the low. He felt as if he had cheated on Betty, betrayed her trust and her loyalty, all because he was horny. He went back and forth in his mind, sometimes trying to justify it, thinking that it was no different than jerking off to porn, but then his conscience would rear its annoying head, reminding him that it was different.

All this led to an uncomfortable meeting of the Serpents. Jughead was continuously caught between trying to listen for all the intricacies of Veronica’s plan while simultaneously getting lost in his own thoughts, having to ask her to repeat herself several times.

From what he had gathered so far, it sounded like an adequate plan. But there were lots of what-ifs.

Veronica started by telling the group that she would pay the Ghoulies for protection, and she was met with much protest, no one wanting to offer up money in what was essentially a racketeering scheme. But she quickly calmed their nerves by unfolding her master scheme.

Her paying the Ghoulies would be a temporary solution, a way to buy time until they could gather enough evidence against the rival gang to put them in prison for drug dealing.

“We’ve already done that with the drag racing, and it only made matters worse,” Toni had reminded her. To which Veronica replied that possession and intent to sell Schedule 1 drugs would carry a much longer sentence. The Ghoulies will be put away for a long time, long enough for the Serpents to regain full control of the Southside.

“But how do we know your dad won’t buy their way out?” Cheryl had countered. Veronica responded that, with his plans for the prison and his wife being mayor, he wouldn’t want to face too much exposure. Any of his hired help that got caught committing criminal acts would be dropped immediately. His only other resources for hired help will be the Serpents, which he will reluctantly reach out to, and which we will accept.

Working for Hiram will provide a steady income for the Serpents, she explained, further stating that the Serpents would only appear to be doing his bidding, while actually gaining insider knowledge and working against the king-pin.

While all this was occurring, Veronica continued, she and other members of the community would be orchestrating a calculated attack on the Lodges.

Betty and Jughead, she said, would be responsible for writing an exposé on Sheriff Minetta, publishing it online and in the Blue and Gold. Again, Hiram’s unwillingness to dirty his own hands meant that he would have to step aside and allow the disgraced sheriff to leave without conflict.

At the same time, FP and Hog-eye would be responsible for taking down Penelope Blossom’s brothel, acting as patrons while, in reality, gathering photographic evidence surrounding the true goings-on of what Penelope was stating was simply a nightclub.

The Ghoulies will have already been taken care of, but Claudius would still have to be exposed. This is where Cheryl and Toni would come in, with Cheryl approaching her uncle interested in pursuing the family business with her girlfriend at her side.

Finally, Sweet Pea and Fangs would be responsible for taking down Penny Peabody once and for all. They would gather evidence of her drug-running orchestration to put her away for a long time. Along with charges of child kidnapping from Toni and child endangerment from Jughead, Penny would most likely die in the prison.

Once Hiram was alone with no allies and limited financial resources, Veronica will end her father’s reign of terror for good. Lenny Kowalski and Carl Martin both still wanted revenge against Hiram. Riverdale was too messy for them to take over at this point, she knew, from their hesitance of Hermione running for mayor. But that didn’t mean they weren’t still angry with her father.

No, one simple phone call of Veronica explaining that Mr. Lodge was alone and helpless, and they would strong-arm Hiram into leaving town, going on the run to escape their wrath. Her plan, she believed, was solid. Isolate Hiram, drain his resources, and then cut off the head.

Jughead finally stopped pacing, having gathered his thoughts and came up with a list of follow-up questions.

“How will Betty and I gather intel on the sheriff? And how do you plan on draining his finances?” he finally asked.

Veronica grimaced, looking pained at the idea behind the other part of her plan.

“You aren’t going to like it,” she stated, to which Jughead raised an eyebrow, prompting her to go on.

“We have to break into the Pembrooke,” she said determinedly.

“Not me, of course. I’ll be busy distracting my parents. I obviously can’t call them up and ask them over for dinner. That would be too obvious, and my father is on high alert right now. So I’ll have to fake an accident or illness, something that will cause their concern for me to override their scheming.”

“That’s cold,” Fangs chuckled, “using your parents love for you against them.”

Veronica shook a hand dismissively at him, continuing on with her plan.

“While they’re with me, Fangs and Sweet Pea will dress up as Ghoulies and distract the security guard in the foyer. It will appear as if they are seeking revenge for Hiram not bailing them out of jail. In the meantime, Jughead, you, Betty, and Cheryl will head upstairs and ransack the apartment. You three are the only ones who have been inside the Pembrooke before. You know the layout better than others here. Go in and take anything that may seem valuable.”

Cheryl interrupted.

“But that’s just stuff. Surely that won’t deplete him of all his worldly resources,” she snipped.

Veronica turned on her heal, addressing her directly.

“You’re right. Which is why one of you will head into the study, taking photos of anything that may be incriminating. You can’t take any files, of course. No robber would simply go after documents. But you can gather as much evidence as possible against him. As for resources, my father keeps a ledger of all of his offshore bank accounts, which is where the bulk of his money is stored. You get the routing and account numbers and we drain it all.”

“Won’t he be suspicious, though? You’re dad might be an ass, but he’s sharp as a whip,” FP asked.

Veronica paused, circling around to all of the Serpents, looking them in the eyes to stress the importance of what she was about to say.

“This is why it is essential that we strike as one. The article on Minetta, Penelope’s brothel, Claudius’s drug ring, Peabody’s… whatever she does. Draining the bank accounts. It all has to happen on the exact same day. The only preemptive attack we execute is against the Ghoulies, which is only after we have enough evidence to put them away for years, decades even. My dad won’t know what to do when everything is taken from him at once. He’ll get desperate which means he’ll get sloppy, driven by impulse rather than by ration. And then I call Kowalski and Martin, and my father will flee.”

The Serpents stood, some nodding to themselves, others whispering among groups. Finally, Jughead spoke.

“Sounds like the heist of the century,” he said, nodding appreciatively.

Veronica smiled, her pent up tension starting to ebb.

“Yes, it is very Steven Soderbergh of me, a la Danny Ocean,” she smirked, proud of her intricate planning. Her face suddenly got serious.

“But it has to go off without a hitch. I typically try to keep my scheming in small circles, but this is too large a matter to handle with only the help of some wannabe teenage Sherlock’s, no offence,” she nodded toward Jughead, who just chuckled.

“We all have to play our parts, which means we have to act like we are falling in line. We can’t let our pride fuck us up,” she stared pointedly at Sweet Pea, “and this is strictly need-to-know. No one outside of this room utters a word, with the exception of Jones telling Betty of her part in this whole plan.”

Everyone was silent for several minutes, each letting their parts play out in their head. Finally, Hog Eye spoke.

“So when do we get started?”

 

*****

 

After the meeting, Veronica went straight to the bar in the barn, pouring herself a drink. Jughead hung back, having a couple more things on his mind bugging him about the plan. He watched as his friend swallowed a large gulp of whisky before she finally noticed him.

“Jug? What’s up?” she asked, walking over to him and pointing toward the couch, signalling for the two of them to talk. 

Jughead sat down reluctantly, still uncomfortable being alone with her after what he witnessed the previous night. He paused for several moments, trying to think of how to approach the topics.

“Veronica?” he asked.

“Hmm?” she questioned, taking another sip from her quickly depleting glass.

“How are we going to gain intel on the Ghoulies? You may be paying them for protection, but it’s not as if the rest of us can just march up into their operation and start asking questions.”

Veronica nodded, contemplating her next words, before setting down her drink and turning to look at Jughead.

“You won’t be. I will,” she stated.

Jughead blinked several times before his brows furrowed in both confusion and anger.

“What do you mean you will?” he asked, accusation starting to creep into his tone.

“It’s simple. Malachi likes me. Well, maybe doesn’t like me, but he does get off on feeling like he has control over me. I witnessed it in our walk, in what he said, in how he acted. I just have to… get friendly with him.”

“Absolutely not,” he shouted, standing up and running his hands through his hair.

Veronica stood too, getting angry at Jughead trying to order her around.

“I’ll make my own decisions, thank you very much! And this has to happen in order for everything else to work!” she yelled back, throwing her hands in the air.

Jughead swiveled, turning to look at her and glaring into her eyes.

“No, Veronica. They’re dangerous. I won’t allow it.”

Veronica scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“You won’t allow it?” she asked bitterly. “You can’t tell me what to do, Jughead. I’m not yours to command. You aren’t my father.”

“And thank god for that! It’s your father’s fault we’re in this mess to begin with! But you cannot do this, Lodge. They will hurt you. Malachi will hurt you!” he yelled.

“Need I remind you that I’ve already encountered my fair share of hardships and obstacles? I helped find Jason Blossom’s murderer. I aided in identifying the Sugarman. I faced running nuns when breaking Cheryl out of that demented dungeon. I took down Nick St. Clair single-handedly. And I made it through the spring 2013 Yves Saint Laurent disaster unscathed. I think I can handle a twenty-something with early-2000s era Pete Wentz eyeliner and too much hair product.” 

Jughead threw his head back in exasperation and then grabbed Veronica by the shoulders, his fingers digging painfully into her skin. She flinched.

“Malachi. Almost. Killed. Me.” he stated, emphasis on each word and rage swirling in his irises.

Veronica shrugged, trying to break free of his grasp.

“Let go,” she shouted, still trying to pull away, “of me, Jughead.”

Finally she succeeded, taking a step back and smoothing down her blouse. She looked back up, glaring at him.

“God, Jughead. I’ll be fine. Why do you care so much?”

Veronica didn’t expect what would happen next. 

Jughead shouted in anger, slinging his fist against a wooden post, his knuckles cracking and becoming bloody. Veronica felt frightened by his erratic behavior.

Quickly he turned on her.

“Why do I care so much? God if I know, Veronica! You’re fucking stubborn as hell, and spoiled. You can be more manipulative than Cheryl. You’re demanding and unrelenting. Petulant and testy. You wear my patience down to nothing. I never roll my eyes as much as I do around you. You make my blood boil at times, like right now, when you won’t listen to reason. You think you know what’s best for everyone, so you get all self-sacrificial when it’s completely unnecessary.”

Veronica was floored. She knew he wasn’t her biggest fan, but he wasn’t expecting all this. Bug Jughead didn’t stop.

“You’re all of those things. But you’re more now. Your stubborn to help the people you love. And you’re spoiled but you’re giving up your resources to help everyone else. And you’re manipulative but you’re using it to take down your own father for a group of people you barely knew three months ago. And you are demanding, and you are unrelenting, but you are also strong and determined and loyal and compassionate, and you have somehow wormed your way into my life no matter how much I pushed back, no matter how much I fought it, no matter how reluctant I was! You’ve forced me to see beyond this cold exterior you built up, whether I wanted to or not, and now I can’t go back to just thinking of you as some spoiled little daddy’s girl. So, sorry! But I do care! And I can’t watch you have a complete disregard for your own safety because you feel like you owe us something. I won’t.”

Veronica stood there, blinking for several moments, unsure of how to respond, unsure if she could even respond at all. Instead, she walked up to Jughead, taking his bleeding hand and holding it in her own. She turned it around, inspecting it, before he raised it up to her face, cupping her cheek, marking her with his blood.

She leaned into his hand, closing her eyes. Raising her own hand, she placed it gingerly over his, loosely intertwining her fingers in his own. They stood there like that, her hand covering his, which was covering her cheek, for several moments. Neither of them spoke. Finally, Jughead released her face, moving his thumb to rest under her chin and lifting it up. She opened her eyes, looking into his.

Again, the two stood in silence, eyes locked, both sets occasionally looking down a little lower on the face before coming back to rest with each other. Neither made a move either closer together or farther apart.

Jughead’s heart was racing. He didn’t know what caused his outburst, and he certainly didn’t know what possessed him to touch the girl in such a way. His mind was in chaos, voices shouting over each other leaving Jughead with no idea what to do next. He glanced down at Veronica’s mouth once more. Seeing her licking her lip, although an innocent gesture, made Jughead’s face move toward her on its own accord.

Veronica, too, started inching closer, every fiber of her being in disagreement with the the rest, part of her knowing this was wrong and part of her wanting it. When the two were mere inches apart, she abruptly turned her head, resting it on the taller boy’s chest. He sighed, resigned, before she pushed away, turning from him, hiding her face.

“I’m going, Jughead. I know you don’t like it. But I don’t care. I’ve come this far, and I won’t back down for you.”

With that, she grabbed her purse and headed toward Thistlehouse, leaving Jughead to watch her retreating form with confusion and frustration swirling in his mind.

Once he saw no more sign of her, Jughead plopped back down on the couch, throwing his head back and groaning.

He was in over his head. He didn’t know what he was doing. He loved Betty, and he still does. He doesn’t want to be with Veronica. Or he thinks he doesn’t. Was it possible to be in love with someone and fall for someone else at the same time? Could someone love two people at once? But this wasn’t love, he kept reminding himself. It was just a product of circumstance. He and Veronica had been spending quite a bit of time together, while he and Betty were barely able to see each other at all. And then he had witnessed Veronica and Sweet Pea together, and that image had invaded his thoughts. It wasn’t love, he shook his head. His mind was just blurring things together, making things out to be more complicated than they actually were.

He just needed to be grounded. He needed a good night’s sleep in his own bed, he needed a burger and milkshake from Pop’s. He needed to see Betty. He needed familiarity and comfort, and maybe that would fix his mind, which at this point he was sure was broken.


	15. Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry! It has been forever since I've updated. I've started taking classes for my master's and am having to devote way more time to it than I had anticipated.
> 
> Here's the next chapter, and I'm going to try and do better about updating semi-regularly. 
> 
> Once again, I love Kudos, but I love comments even more, and you don't have to be a registered user of AO3 to leave either ;)
> 
> Also, I have two new-ish Jeronica fics uploaded, so (shameless self-promotion), go to my page and check them out if you please!

A group of teenagers were laughing in the booth behind them, uninvited mirth worming its way into their booth. Betty tapped her fingers against the table. Jughead glanced over at the clock. The two had been sitting at the diner for nearly fifteen minutes now but had barely spoken.

When, Jughead thought to himself, did this get so awkward? He and Betty had never had this problem before. Even before they were dating, conversation always seemed to flow easily. Betty yawned, and his attention was brought back to the girl in front of him.

He couldn’t help himself. He started comparing her to her best friend. He always thought the two were so dissimilar, so different that their friendship never made sense to him. Betty, he thought, had always been so multi-dimensional. No one ever saw it, always thought she was just the girl-next-door, naive and good, but Jughead always knew there was more to her.

Betty was powerful, a warrior for those she loved. And, where everyone else saw light, he saw a constant battle between that light and an underlying dark. She was smart, her brain always churning, looking at life as if it were some great puzzle to solve. And when she had let go of her dream of Archie, and, god, was Jughead glad she did, so many more intricacies started pouring out. Jughead had always known there was more to Betty than meets the eye.

But Veronica? Veronica is the only person in this world who had him fooled. He prided himself on his ability to see through people, to read people as if they were a familiar book. He thought Veronica to be nothing more than a vapid girl, nice enough, sure, but not more than what was on the surface.

But he had been proven wrong. And Jughead didn’t like that, wasn’t familiar with the feeling of not understanding someone’s motives and intentions. Veronica let people see what she wanted them to see. Everyone does, he supposed, put on a mask for the world. But Veronica’s mask had no cracks, or it hadn’t until recently.

She wanted people to think she was shallow, that she was just another city girl obsessed with fashion and the latest news in pop culture. She wanted to be underestimated. No one would ever assume Veronica Lodge could be as sneaky and manipulative as she really was. She let people think she was smart enough, quick to reference great works of literature or classic films, but not much more than that.

She had everyone fooled. She was more multifaceted than the diamonds that adorned her ears. More depth than anyone in this small town would ever give her credit for.

Jughead looked back at Betty. Understanding all these things about Veronica made him realize why the two girls were friends. They were both so powerful, and they hid it behind ponytails and pearls.

“When do you want to start investigating Minetta?” Betty asked between a sip of her milkshake.

Jughead grabbed a fry from her basket and shrugged. “I’m free whenever. Can you manage to get away from your house for a night?”

Betty’s face fell dark. “Jughead, what’s happening at my house isn’t as trivial as you make it out to be. I can’t just ‘get away’. I don’t want to.”

Jughead waved his hands, cutting her off. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

“No, Jughead, I think it was. My mother and sister are going through some very dark things, and I’m having to balance all of it. Do you know how hard it is to be a seventeen year old holding my entire family together?” she snipped at her boyfriend.

Jughead nodded his head darkly. “I think you know that I do.”

Betty’s mouth pulled into a grimace. “I’m sorry, Jug. I didn’t mean that,” she sighed and paused. “It’s just, I can’t keep being pulled into a hundred different directions. I stopped focusing on my family and ended up with a serial killer for a dad and a cult-hippie mother. I just…” she paused again, raising her fingernails to inspect them before putting her hands in her lap and looking up, “I just have to focus on myself. I don’t have it in me to spread myself so thin. It’s all I’ve been doing for the past year and a half.”

Jughead had two options: to be the supportive, understanding boyfriend, the most rational option; or, he could get indignant, give into his emotions. He made the mistake of choosing the latter, letting his feelings get in the way of his reason yet again.;

“So where does that leave us? What, I’m supposed to just investigate Minetta on my own? I have stuff going on in my life too, Betty.” Jughead huffed, crossing his arms and turning to look out the window.

“You could practice empathy, Jughead. God knows you need it,” Betty retorted, grabbing her phone and stuffing it into her purse. She pulled out some bills and left it on the counter before standing to leave. She started walking toward the door, followed quickly by a confused Jughead.

“Where are you going?” he called after her, trying to catch up to his girlfriend. She spun on her heels.

“God, Jug, you are so wrapped up in this revenge quest against Hiram Lodge that you are failing to see what’s right in front of you! It’s been months, Jug. And I understand that he’s a bad man, but so was my dad. He murdered people, our classmate, nearly Moose and Fred and Cheryl, too. So I’m sorry if I can’t prioritize your little mission of vengeance, but I would appreciate if you could be supportive of that. Or at the bare minimum not make little snide retorts acting like I am in the wrong.”

Jughead paused, nodding his head. She wasn’t wrong; he hadn’t been a good partner to her recently. His feelings for Veronica aside, he still hadn’t been there for Betty when she needed him most. He slowly walked up to her and pulled her into a hug.

“I’m sorry; you’re right. But I’m worried about us. When did everything get so broken?” he asked.

She relaxed into his hug, resting her chin against his shoulder. “I don’t know Jug. We’ve never gone through this together. Our entire relationship has been built around solving cases together, but we’re on different paths now. I’m not going to ask you to stop investigating Hiram, but I can’t help you with it either. I have my own struggles.”

Jughead nodded, releasing her from his embrace and separating them. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked at her solemnly. “But what does that mean? For us?” he asked, before realizing she was getting frustrated with him again. “I don’t mean anything by it. But like you said, this is new for us. I’m not exactly experienced in the art of relationships. I just…” he paused, letting his arms fall to his sides before taking his hand and running it over his face.

“I can’t let this go, Betty. Hiram has taken everything from me, and he’s not going to stop. I have to do this. And I know you have to do what you have to do. So, again, where does that leave us?”

Betty gave him a sad smile. “I love you, Juggy. More than I ever thought possible. But maybe we need to put us on hold for a while,” she reached out for him, seeing his expression change into one of hurt. “I don’t want this to be the end of Betty and Jughead, but maybe just a break. We can’t give each other our best right now. We’re stuck with leftovers, and all that will do is foster resentment and anger. Maybe the best thing for us is to not feel obligated to each other, just until we work through our own demons.”

Jughead just nodded blankly. He didn’t trust himself to say the right words. He was angry and sad and bitter, his heart pounding loudly against his ears.

She cupped his face in her hands. “I love you, Jug. And I will, forever and ever and ever.” She gently leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before turning around and getting in her car.

After she had left, Jughead continued to stand. All his emotions were gone and he felt a void in his chest; he was lost. He didn’t know how long he stood there. Hours, maybe. Daylight was starting to transition into dusk, and it started to sprinkle before Jughead finally started walking robotically toward his bike.

*****

Veronica was pacing back and forth in the study. She looked at her watch with frustration before turning to Sweet Pea. “Where is he?” she seethed. “He said he would be here by four. It’s half past five. We can’t move forward until your fearless leader gets here.”

Sweet Pea threw his hands up in innocence. “I don’t know! I’ll try calling him again.” He dialed the number into his phone and hit send, letting it ring a minute before being greeted by Jughead’s voice. ‘You’ve reached Jughead Jones the Third. Leave a message. Or don’t.”

Sweet Pea threw his head back in frustration. “Dammit, Jones. You were supposed to be here an hour ago. Veronica’s on edge, and you better hope for your sake that you show up soon. Call me back.” Sweet Pea ended the call and threw his phone onto the settee. 

Veronica continued to pace, occasionally pouring herself more whisky and finally settling ungracefully on the office chair behind the desk. Finally, the door to the study opened and in came the lumbering form of Jughead. He slammed the door behind him and sat down in a huff on the sofa.

Veronica stood up, her eyebrows raised as she walked slowly over to him. “Jughead,” she smiled sweetly, “how nice of you to grace us with your presence. Might I inquire as to why the fuck you are two hours late? Do you think none of the rest of us have anything to do but wait around for the mighty Serpent king?” she asked, her sugary voice quickly turning sour.

Jughead whipped his head around to look at her, before standing up and walking toward the woman currently berating him. He mustered up all his might to look intimidating while looming over her. Veronica rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, please, Jughead. Stop posturing.”

Jughead finally spoke. “Sorry I can’t accommodate your every fucking request, Queen Veronica,” he seethed, voice dripping with contempt. “I know you have certain expectations of people falling over themselves to please you,” at that, he looked pointedly toward Sweet Pea, “but some of us have obligations outside of catering to your every whim.”

The two started to argue back and forth, voices raising with each word until their shouts could be heard throughout the manor.

Cheryl turned to Fangs and spoke lowly in his ear. “See what I mean? I can’t tell if they want to murder each other or fuck like rabbits.” Fangs nodded furiously, amused by the scene in front of him.

“Well if you think you can handle this on your own, Princess, then be my guest!” Jughead shouted, to which Veronica quickly retorted sarcastically, “Oh, please don’t go, Jughead. I don’t know how I’ll ever manage without your constant brooding and flair for dramatics. Whatever shall I do?”

Jughead rounded on her. “Maybe you can just call up Daddy. I’m sure he’ll make everything better for his precious daughter.”

The room fell silent. It was an unspoken rule, one that had been established weeks, nay months ago that you didn’t mention Hiram and her relationship in any great capacity, and certainly not like this. The only sounds in the room were the pants of Jughead and Veronica, both glaring at each other with flames in their eyes.

“Outside. Now,” Veronica commanded, pulling Jughead by the collar of his leather Jacket before slamming the door behind the two of them. The inhabitants of the room looked around and just shrugged at each other before quickly clamoring to the door and pressing their ears against it, each trying to get the best spot from which to eavesdrop. 

In the hallway, Veronica pushed her finger into Jughead’s chest. “I don’t know what trivial little problem has got you all in a tither, but you need to stop taking it out on me.” She shoved her finger harder and harder into his chest, likely causing bruising, until he grabbed her wrist and yanked it away.

“Trivial little problem? God, step outside of your bubble, you privileged shrew!” Jughead was holding her wrist tightly and in an awkward position. She tried tugging it away and he finally released her like her skin burned him. She rubbed the spot on her arm gingerly, staring up at him with a sneer on her face.

“Then why don’t you try acting like a fucking adult, Jughead, and tell me about it. You are exhausting. I’m not a mind reader!” she hissed.

“Fine then! Betty and I are over. Another thing your father has ripped away from me. I’ll add it to the long list of happiness the great Lodge family has stripped from me bit by bit.”

“Don’t associate me with them,” she snapped. Jughead’s nostrils flared as he got closer to her, once again using his height as an advantage over the petite girl. “Well,” he spat, “you are a Lodge, aren’t you?”

Veronica didn’t respond for several moments, instead glaring up at him, refusing to back down and give into his heated outburst. “I think you should choose your next words carefully, Jones.” Veronica knew how Jughead could act when he was in his emotions. He said things he didn’t mean, lashed out at those around him, got obsessive over the target of his hurt.

“I just lost the love of my life, no thanks to you. Maybe some sympathy would do better in this situation than getting defensive like a petulant child.”

“Check your privilege, Jones. Don’t infantilize me. Don’t try and take your bitterness over your shitty hand you’ve been dealt out on me. None of this is my fault.” Veronica finished and Jughead scoffed. 

“Sure it isn’t.”

Veronica looked up at him incredulously. “How is this my fault? You and Betty wouldn’t have ever started dating if it weren’t for me. She didn’t give you the time of day. She was so far up Archie’s ass that she couldn’t see anything else! If anything, you should be thanking me.”

Jughead’s features went dark as he charged up in front of her. He pushed her against the wall, stepping closer, once again invading her personal space. But this wasn’t like the gentle caress he gave her the other day. There were storms raging behind his eyes. It unsettled her.

“You don’t get it, Veronica. She left me; Betty left me. And instead of feeling hurt or sad or betrayed, I feel nothing. I’ve spent the last three hours trying to feel something, anything. To have a normal reaction to this, but I can’t muster up even a single tear. And that, Veronica, is your fault.”

Veronica looked up at him with defiance in her eyes but confusion swirling around behind them. What was he saying? He wasn’t making any sense, and she tried to just shake it off, blame it on his current emotional state, but she couldn’t dismiss the nagging feeling pulling inside of her.

“Jughead,” she answered, less anger and more softness in her voice, “I’m sorry about you and Betty. But I had nothing to do with it.” She placed her hand hesitantly on his chin, gently pressing up, willing him to look at her. She hoped it would calm him down, but instead he responded by loudly banging on the wall next to her head.

“Jughead, what the fuck is wrong with you? I’m trying here, but you’re not making any sense.” At that, Jughead laughed sardonically. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. His arms lowered down to her hands, intertwining their fingers together. He slowly pushed their clasped hands against the wall, raising them up until he was pressed against her, her arms held above her head by his strong grasp.

Suddenly, the door to the study opened, and Sweet Pea walked out. 

“You need to take a walk, Jones. Cool off.”

Jughead looked from his friend to Veronica, then, realizing their position, quickly released her. He nodded at Sweet Pea for a few moments before turning and walking away, not saying a word. Once he was gone, Sweet Pea walked up to Veronica, offering her his hand. She dismissed him with a curt nod, walking past him into the study and up to the whisky decanter, pouring herself a generous serving and swallowing it in one breath.

She turned to the others. “I’m going for a walk. I need to…,” she started to say, “Just head home. We’ll talk in the morning.”

The others gave her uncertain nods, looking around to each other with confusion on their faces. Veronica slipped her shoes on and walked determinedly out the door. She left the house, walking the grounds aimlessly, pondering the events that had unfolded tonight. She was confused by Jughead’s actions, but, more than anything, she was dazed at her own reaction. She should be calling Betty, making sure she was okay, but she felt dirty for thinking of Betty right now. 

Veronica’s life was one of denial. Denial that her father was a bad guy. Denial that she and Archie weren’t endgame. Denial that she, underneath it all, wasn’t a mean girl waiting to escape. And now she was in denial once again. She didn’t want to address it in her mind. Didn’t want to acknowledge that there was anything worth denying. But she knew, in the dark recesses of her mind, that wasn’t true.

How could she call Betty right now and offer her support when the only thing on her mind was Jughead Jones?


End file.
